The Anonymity of Being
by perpetually
Summary: A mother's undying love is tested to the limits of pain when a ferocious guilt casts bushfires across the plains of her daughter's heart. [Updated daily]
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **A story about growing, finding and reaching beyond. Told in a nonlinear narrative with alternate chapters in past and present. (It will have short chapters and will be updated daily because it's been pre-written)

**Readers: **Viewer discretion is advised. The story is rated M. **A big and final warning. ****Contains _dark themes_.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Twilight._ It is owned by Stephenie Meyer, and not part of my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only. This is a fictional story about fictional representations of real people. Intertextuality is used to express cloaked feelings in this story. They will be credited at the end of the chapter.

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_Message To Bears - Find Our Way Home  
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**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

_"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will." _

_― Charlotte Brontë_

**1\. The Present  
**

If anyone had asked Renee what _hope _entailed, a few years ago, she would have described the miniature tendrils of a plant seeking sunlight in its crowded enclosure. She would have brought up the idea of outwitting fate and its peculiar irony. She would have laughed and stated that hope was in everybody- flowing in the undercurrent of bloodstreams. She would have bravely captured the expression of hope, declaring that she embodied it as much as the next person.

But hope was much more complex than that.

It hid within individuals- beating in their chests with a thundering sensation, especially for those who needed it urgently. It hid itself behind the charades of the most average faces, camouflaging with ordinary's finest. It was a ghostly presence behind the masquerade masks, slithering through the glitter and feathers. It avoided the clattering high-heels that danced on the polished timber and the loudest of drunk arguments. It survived in its indiscernible grandeur, invisible to the naked eye.

No one knew they needed hope until hope was summoned in the light of adversity. When everything was perfect, hope was ignored like a set of forgotten keys on the kitchen counter. Hope would be stored in suffocation, hiding in a menagerie that would only be appreciated when the right time was warranted.

But hope was important... the raw, naked truth of hope was crucial to every human being at some point in their thread of existence. A wish, a dream, a salvation- it was. It called out to the bravest warriors and the weakest hearts. It nurtured the bitterness of loss and cooed at the confused.

So when Renee sat back in her plastic chair, watching the steam of her coffee vanish into a hypnotizing transparency, she knew she could feel hope in every part of her body. It was the calcium in her bones and the blood vessels in her body. She needed hope to tell a story that surpassed the gloomy bags under her eyes and the inadequacy she felt as a mother. She needed it more than it would ever need her. With every trip to the mainland of her worries, she tried to replenish her deteriorating supply.

Renee listened to the deafening silence of the house which stood in its shabby glory of blue carpet and faulty light bulbs. After Charlie, her husband, had passed away, all she had left was her unborn daughter. There was no one but the nurses next to her during the posthumous birth. And although she could have given her daughter a metronymic last name, she chose to keep her late husband's surname.

Bella Swan had been seven pounds when she'd entered the world with shrill cries that signified a new chapter in Renee's lonely life. She remembered not knowing how to feed the newborn and occasionally being overwhelmed with her responsibilities. Her hands had been young and tender once, inexperienced with hard work, as a wedding ring smiled at those who glanced. But with a new baby, she'd worked hard whilst the elderly woman next door kindly looked after Bella.

Renee smiled sadly, reminiscing about a bubbly child who had excelled in all of her school activities. Bella's strawberry blonde hair, which eventually darkened as she aged, had glistened in the sun as she would cry, "Mama! Look I'm flying!"

The swings were always Bella's favorite when they visited the playground. She was closer to her curiosities as she flew into the sky, mimicking the flight of a dove. She'd constantly ask her mother why her father was never around to which Renee would reply with appropriate honesty- as trust, to them, was timeless.

"Is he in heaven now?" a Bella with darker hair would ask, scrunching up her nose.

"Yes, baby," Renee would reply, kissing her daughter on the forehead. "Now, are you brave enough to sleep alone, tonight?"

Often, they'd cuddle with each other- mother and daughter, with love caressing their relaxed limbs. As Bella got older, Renee also had to deal with the mood-swings of a teenager. She knew it was the hormones acting up but sometimes, when she sat on the slopes of parenthood, she felt as if she couldn't see the beacon on the lighthouse.

She was a single mom. She only had one chance at life. And she did it all for her baby girl.

"Will you always be here for me, Mama?" a fifteen-year-old Bella had asked, pushing away her brown curls.

"Always, baby," she had replied. "You're my best friend, after all."

As Renee stared into the coffee that resembled the eyes of her daughter, she realized it had cooled down significantly. She quickly walked over to the sink, pouring the pain of her current reality down the drain.

She wasn't a coffee drinker. She simply desired the return of normalcy in her life. In her daughter's life. But each day seemed to add onto the plateau of her graph, daring her to give up. But she couldn't; she'd only leave her daughter behind.

So she asked herself. Again and again. What was hope? It was intangible yet undeniably palpable, pulling and pushing the troubled in a whirlpool that could only go up or down. Everyone prayed for the better result- to stay afloat and just _be_\- but not everything was fair in life's thrilling adventures. Events extended throughout the infinite bookshelves of past and present. To have one's tale published as a notion of success, hope would have to be there, holding hands with the strong.

It was the survivors who could fill the empty pages with an ink that curved into a story.

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_A/N: I know, it's not even the end of January yet and I'm already spewing out more stuff. I've made a banner- linked on my profile. Sometimes, there are multiple updates but other times, it's just one chapter. Also, it might be a slow burn... for patience. I promise to update my other stuff, at some point! Love you all!_


	2. Chapter 2

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**2\. The Past**

"Turn up the music, Ma," Bella giggled.

Renee rolled her eyes as she drove, feeling the breeze of summer laugh through the window. Its warm fingers played with her blonde streaks, setting some strands on fire with the iridescent glow of sunshine.

"You're the one with free hands," Renee pointed out.

The _Pina Colada_ _Song_ started to play, thumping through the speakers in rhythm with the spinning wheels hitting the ground. Bella smiled as she put her arms out of the window, leaning in for a revivifying kiss. Her hair waved with the locomotion of the vehicle. She felt like a national flag being held high into the sky, acknowledged with a windy embrace.

"How's the view?" Renee asked.

"Fresh!"

"Just wait until you get to the campsite. Plenty of cute boys. You can forget about your silly boy bands."

"I heard that, Ma," Bella said, ducking back inside.

"Well, it's true." Her mother shrugged. "You kids have horrible music, nowadays. Thank goodness, I decided to bring some of my own tracks on this road trip."

"Everyone thinks the past is better but I reckon they only look at the good whilst sweeping the terrible parts under the carpet," Bella stated emphatically.

"Okay, smart alec," Renee responded. "Good to see you using your head for once and not absorbing everything I say."

"Hey," Bella protested. "When do I ever _not _use my head?"

"All the time," her mother deadpanned before cracking a smile. "You really shouldn't have given me a chance to answer that."

"I'll remember it for next time," Bella grumbled.

"C'mon! School's over, long face. Everything will be fine. Aren't you even remotely excited to be hanging out with your dear mother?" she asked as the deserted landscape seemed to expand into the pastel layers of the omniscient sky.

"Sure, I am," Bella answered. "It's just that Wendy's moving to Arizona and I only found out a few days ago."

"Honey, you'll survive senior year without Wendy. You have so many great friends," Renee stated, quickly glancing at her daughter. "Like Lauren, Rosalie..."

"Yeah, they're nice," Bella said noncommittally as she bit her nails.

"You know you can always hang out with other people, right? If you don't want to be part of the _popular _group, you can quit."

"Nothing's really changed over the decades, has it?"

"I was never like you, honey. Sure, popularity is a huge thing in every social situation but I was never invested in its chaotic morass. A girl in my grade had once cut off another student's braid... and that was classified as minor news," Renee recounted, shuddering.

"People will do anything to feel powerful," Bella muttered quietly. "Or to get what they want."

"Once you enter the real world, you'll meet all sorts of people. And some will be even more twisted than your favorite gingerbread twists."

"Now, I'm officially hungry."

"I can hear your stomach growling for those fresh, summer camp boys!"

Bella rolled her eyes, laughing at her mother's puerility.

"But I'm still too young to be a grandmother," Renee added seriously.

"So you'll dangle the bait in front of me but I'm not allowed a bite?" Bella asked, cocking her eyebrow.

"There's the smart-ass talking again," Renee laughed, ruffling her daughter's hair.

As they drove into the blistering heat- leaving Knox behind, they headed towards a summer camp that would extinguish any remnants of worry from real life.

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_A/N: I like using fictional places. Also, the mood and language can change considerably, due to various intensities. _


	3. Chapter 3

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**3\. The Present**

Renee heard a knock on the door. And then another one, crying with muffled desperation. She wondered if this day would prove to be the start of something new. But that was probably too hopeful of a wish on her behalf. Renee sighed before muttering to herself about the boy not having a clue. She was temporized, having to endure a hefty debate with herself about opening the door.

But she decided it was his lucky day, only if he'd stop pushing his luck onto their doorstep. She wondered if boys had evolved to become slightly brainless in the department of understanding signals. Charlie had never been so dense, but he'd always been one of a kind- choosing to utilize his integrity properly.

Renee opened the door, meeting the green eyes of a boy who had been relentless with his visitation rights. She noticed the lambent hope that illuminated his mulish perseverance.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" she asked coldly, repeating herself- yet another time.

"I'm here to see-"

"Yes, I know that." A sharp snap. "You've said that, every single day. I'm expecting something more profound."

"Please, Renee. I just want to help her. I want to understand some things," Edward pleaded. "I know I was childish, having put my feelings before hers. I regret it and I need to apologize."

"I'll pass on your apology," she replied monotonously.

"Look, maybe we can help her togeth-"

"She doesn't want to see you, Edward," Renee chided.

Although his idea wasn't entirely infeasible, she knew she'd always respect her daughter's wishes even though she'd been locked out of the inner circle herself. Renee felt a kick of doubt against her shin, sabotaging her belief that trust would eventually show itself. She always thought that the strength of her love would be sufficient in persuading Bella to communicate. She desperately wished to know what was wrong as she fought against the indefatigable smoke of her daughter's depression.

"Has she been talking to you?" he asked, scraping his shoe against the ground.

Renee took a minute to reply, assessing the authenticity in his persistent visits.

"No," she said.

Raising her eyebrows, she silently asked if Bella was giving him the same treatment. The corners of Edward's lips pulled into a straight line, replying with dissatisfaction. The sickly atmosphere of the household wasn't something Edward had familiarized himself with. Lively chatter and genuine smiles were the precious memories he'd held close to his heart.

"Is there anything else?" Renee asked, placing her hand against the door frame.

Edward took note of her defensive posture, like a lioness protecting her cub. He couldn't detect any blame in her attitude; he wondered what he must have come off as. Did he look despondent at all? Was he wearing his emotions of heartbreak? He had never meant to hurt Bella. He'd thought of it to be the opposite. She'd hurt him.

She had shut him out, not giving him a chance. She'd discarded him even when his feelings for her still burnt with an iron-hot affection. But had it been affection if he'd preferred impatience to kindness? He could feel her somberness transcending the childishness he'd exposed. He couldn't stop the malodorous unease from tackling him to the ground. He wondered if he could ever truly _believe _all of it...

"Edward?"

He looked into the eyes of Bella's mother, abruptly remembering a time when she'd welcomed him with nothing but unsullied hospitality. Edward remembered the excited smile on Renee's face as her eyes darted between Bella and himself, sparkling with delight. But as he remembered his unwanted presence in this new time and place, he shivered at the coldness in Renee's eyes.

"Th-there's nothing else."

He looked away, staring up at a cloudy sky that hung his unalterable circumstances over him. Just as Renee was about to shut the door, a fleeting thought scampered across his mind.

"If I wrote a letter, would you give it to her?"

"Are we talking hypothetically?"

"Realistically."

"Maybe," Renee replied.

Edward backed away slowly, looking at the gray opaqueness. The heavens growled at him with a fierce look of hunger, keen to devour him and the compulsion he hadn't suppressed for the sake of patience. As he walked away from the house on the end of the street, Renee watched the young boy disappear into a diminutive speckle.

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_A/N: I also got a Facebook... I only ever use Twitter. But now, they're both linked on my profile. My presence on those sites can stray, so **sorry** if I'm slow to reply :(._


	4. Chapter 4

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**4\. The Past**

"It's a good break for kids these days, seeing how we have really dodgy WiFi," Jane Thomas snickered, leading Bella and Renee to their cabin. Bella looked around at the ferns that encased them as she witnessed the birds tweeting happily under her keen espial.

"Tell me about it. They're all glued to their phones and computers," Renee replied with a roll of her eyes.

"So this is where you'll be staying. Here are the keys. A queen bed, bathroom and table with chairs. You'll survive," Jane said, winking at Bella.

"Well, this is exciting!" Renee commented as she sat on the bed.

The atmosphere ripened with a coziness, beckoning them to unpack and enjoy their time together at the recreational camp. The last time they had been here was when Bella's fingertips had merely grazed the brink of teenagehood. But now, they were returning for what would be a final time before Bella graduated from high school.

"I think they renovated the bathrooms in these cabins," Bella remarked, peeking her head in.

"That's great news," Renee laughed. "I wasn't too fond of the toilets."

"Uh huh, I remembered you peeing in the bushes once." Bella couldn't help but snort at the memory. "And you say I'm the one who needs to quit complaining."

"That was just one time, missy," her mother argued. "Anyway, I'm going to hang up our clothes."

"I'll help you, Ma."

"No, no, I want you making new friends. Go talk to the other kids," Renee suggested, eagerly pushing Bella out.

"What-"

"Come back in an hour," she yelled before shutting the door.

Bella huffed, making her way down the winding pathway outside the cabins. She could hear the sounds of other families sorting out their belongings as kids chattered animatedly. She could feel beads of sweat gathering at the back of her neck which prompted her to go to the main lobby area where there was bound to be air conditioning.

Whilst staring at the ground and uncomfortably adjusting the tag on the back of her shirt, she suddenly experienced an imbalance of her bearings- falling onto the ground with a thud.

"Crap!" a guy shouted. "I'm sorry for knocking you over."

She looked up at the shadowy outline of a face that was backlit by the scorching sun.

"Bella Swan?" His words were soused with surprise.

She felt his hand on her elbow as he helped her up. Bella's eyes widened, recognizing who the coincidental bump-in was.

"Hey Edward," she muttered, noticing a smidgeon of blush on his tinted cheeks.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he laughed. The guy oozed with amicability. It made Bella wince as his good-natured personality seemed to be wasted on her indifference.

"Yeah... it's been a couple of years since I've been to this place."

"I come every year. I always think my grandparents are eager to have me out of the house. They think recreational camps are a healthy dose of fun," Edward rambled cheerfully. "Though, they should be here, as well, experiencing the friendly vibes."

She'd never properly spoken to Edward Cullen. He was a guy in her grade who existed in the boy version of the group she _belonged_ to. Some labelled the testosterone_y_ clan as the only place to find an attractive boyfriend but Bella was constantly unimpressed by their failed attempts of gallantry.

"Oh, so how are your grandparents?" Bella asked, letting out a small yawn in response to his babbling. _  
_

"Carlisle and Esme are good. Though, we've recently moved because they got annoyed at how snobby our neighbors were being," Edward replied. She wondered if the guy even breathed.

"Okay, cool. It was nice talking to you, Edward. But I'm going to the lobby, now," Bella mumbled quickly. She wasn't ready to get sunburnt into a peeling tomato on the first day.

"I could use some air conditioning. I'll come with you."

Much to her disappointment, the temperature didn't stop rising even when she reached the lobby.

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	5. Chapter 5

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**5\. The Present  
**

Renee trod up the stairs lightly before pressing her ear against the door of her daughter's bedroom. She was met with the quiet drumming of silence; she pulled away. Staring at the doorknob, she deliberated if she should make a turn and take a step forward. She'd lost count of the days, and weeks, that Bella had been like this. She didn't even know when it'd first started. A transmutation that had reached its endpoint far too quickly, concealing its observable signs. So Renee took her worries to the web, looking at forums where parents discussed whether it was ethical to read their children's journals. She'd quickly shut down her computer.

Renee walked into the bathroom, staring at the misery buried in her eyes. She couldn't find it in herself to shine when her daughter was decaying away, entombed in her pestiferous emotions. She stared at her reflection where she felt the numbing pain of tears trickle down her face.

"What did I do wrong?" she asked herself.

She thought she'd been a good mother. She knew it was hard, raising a child by herself, but courage served as her backbone. Her daughter was courteous, generous and loved. She thought she'd done everything right as a single parent. She'd given her daughter the kind of messages that couldn't be forgotten in infinite lifetimes. But now it seemed as if her efforts were crumbling away in front of her eyes. She couldn't differentiate her human misinterpretations from the self-deprecation that was provoked. Everything had been fine until it wasn't, tilting her world and warping both poles.

After washing her face and drying away the red puffiness of her woes, Renee drove to the markets. She was met with an artificial taste of temporary freedom as she realized she hadn't left the house in a few days. She was a mouse witnessing another struggle in a trap, desperately trying to rewind time and save the undeserving from suffering any more pain.

She had been staring at the apple in her hand when a shriek surprised Renee. The apple fell onto the ground.

"Look who it is! How are you, darling?"

Renee's hazel eyes averted to the twinkling mischief in Barbara Mallory's gaze that seemed to be dripping with fascination. She looked around Renee as if she was on the prowl for something to eat.

"Where's your daughter?" the woman asked.

"At home," Renee replied. She hoped Barbara could see the disinterest etched on her face, wondering if this conversation was necessary for her day to move on.

"I heard about what some of the kids are talking about," Barbara whispered, as if a conspiracy had just been given the green lights.

Renee shifted her feet. She was caught between her desperate thirst for curiosity and the instinctual suspicion that piqued her distrust. She wondered if the gossip of high school was just as unpalatable as before.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Renee replied tersely. Bending down to pick up the apple that she'd dropped, she wondered if Barbara had taken the hint and walked away. She was heavily displeased.

"Bella hasn't told you then," the woman stated bluntly, having the nerve to crack a smile. Renee attempted to conceal her rapidly growing confusion, covering it under an angry reply.

"What my daughter and I share is _none _of your concern, Barbara."

"For someone who exhibits so much pride in having a close relationship with her daughter, I am rather surprised," she said. Apology danced in her eyes but it twirled to the beats of mockery, fearlessly showing underlying contempt.

"I always thought Bella was a kind girl. Lauren spoke highly of her... well, until she decided to be someone who she shouldn't have been," Barbara continued, raising her eyebrows innocently.

"You have no right to speak about my daughter like that. Go mind your own business," Renee growled. She spun on her heel and walked away from the talking disaster.

"I don't blame Bella, you know. But it is such a shame..."

Her voice followed Renee, all the way to her car where she broke down crying behind the safety of her tinted windows.

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	6. Chapter 6

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**6\. The Past**

"Group one, go get your arrows," Dylan, the instructor, said. "All right, group two, are we ready? Remember to stay behind the white line, folks. Only go into the danger zone when I say so."

"I already feel like Katniss Everdeen," Edward said casually.

"Why are we in the same group for everything?" Bella grumbled.

After everyone from the first group had walked back, the instructor motioned for the next archers to step forward. Bella gently touched the fletching of the arrow before nocking it onto her bowstring. She closed one eye, realizing that not only was she a novice at being an Everdeen, she was also having a difficult battle with the bright daylight. At the same time, the refreshing breeze that breathed into her perception felt liberating, spreading a cool sensation across her back.

"Let's see who's better at baking a cake," Edward whispered.

If stranger things hadn't come out of his mouth already, she would've thought this to be the most baffling.

"It's a game, Swan," he continued. "Basically you need to hit the white twice- for flour and milk, the blue for blueberries, the red for strawberries and the gold for eggs. We've got five arrows so that leaves no room for mistakes."

"What about the black?"

"If you hit that, you burn the entire cake."

Perhaps, baking wasn't her forte but the fascinating appeal of creating something out of colors and arrows ignited her determination.

"I'm game," Bella stated.

Edward's first short landed on the blue. Though, it must have been a quarter of an inch lucky from landing on the black, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. As Bella felt the arrow being released from her string, she watched it land on the white. It looked as if it was going to fall off the board, positioned at an angle that screamed for assistance.

Edward was measuring up his target with his third arrow when she glanced over at his achievements, feeling envious of his skills. So far, all he needed was a bull's-eye and two whites. Bella picked up her second arrow and nocked it into place. She felt it whistle away to a blue, earning a bright smile from the archer herself.

However, the next one wasn't so great. In the midst of her excitement, the arrow had fallen short. It landed on the grass, deciding to watch the ongoing match from an unfortunate position. As she squinted at her target, hoping that this one wouldn't miss, she took in a deep breath and let go. The tip of the arrow landed on what seemed to be the thin line between red and gold.

"I'll give you that," Edward said.

Bella looked at his board, gaping. A proud bull's-eye smiled at her with an arrow on its golden forehead. Edward Cullen had successfully baked his cake.

"All you need is another white," he encouraged.

Bella grabbed the last arrow and straightened her back, knowing that a white shouldn't be too ridiculous to ask for. She bit on her bottom lip as she pulled her arm back. However, to her greatest surprise and infuriation, Edward's subsequent words secretly redirected the trajectory of her arrow.

"If you lose, I get to take you out on a date."

Her dignity flew into the air, pushing across the summer air as it searched for the flour (or milk) that was needed to bake Edward Cullen's trifling cake. She hoped for an upshot that leaned in her favor. But just as her luck would have it, it landed on defeat.

Her cake was burnt.

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	7. Chapter 7

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**7\. The Present**

The repetitious thumping gave no indication of consideration as it interposed between the unspoken words of unease in the house and the silence that was emitted from such disquietude. Renee stared at the door as the knocking continued. She didn't know why she even bothered to give the boy a chance, knowing that he'd hurt Bella despite her denial. As she realized that the full story could have been out of her reach, she felt a wary sense of dubiety towards Edward Cullen. The lingering questions over inaccurate conclusions would not benefit anyone.

She ignored the sound coming from the other side of the door as she sat down on the couch. Fidgeting, she quickly opened the newspaper to a page in the middle, convincing herself that if she simply waited, he'd go away. Renee pretended that it was a meager noise in the background which deserved none of her attention like clock hands on the wall or the whoosh of the washing machine.

_Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster;  
It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses._

It only worked for a few seconds before she scowled. Having had enough, she stalked over to face Ignorance incarnate. The puzzlement she felt towards his firm conviction that she'd answer brought additional obscurity to the whole matter. Edward stared back at her with eyes of green that seemed to be shouting with a sadness which mirrored her own. Renee scrutinized his messy hair and dirty shoes.

"Do you ever tell your grandparents about your visits here?"

"They know the partial truth," he responded.

Renee sighed, leaning against the door frame. The temptation of having _hints_, like those provided in games, grew as she wished for the all-seeing empyrean to provide her with a much needed fire and light. But she knew that her reality was not made up of crosswords and Scrabble games. Situations required her own critical analysis and decisions. She only had one chance to give it her best shot. As a mother, as a best friend.

So she opened the door a little wider and muttered, "Come in. I want to talk to you."

With great caution displayed in his actions, he walked in, finding it impossible to refuse being a step closer to the daughter in the dark. He felt a heavy weight tugging at his chest as he remembered the last time he'd been here. It had felt like many winters ago even though he knew the final curtain of summer was only just about to fall with a closing bow.

_And turn and go up to the open door boldly, _  
_And knock to the echoes as beggars for roses._

"Thirsty?"

"Water, please."

She grabbed two glasses and filled them up, catching sight of her distorted reflection on the smooth surface of the kettle. They sat on the plastic chairs in the kitchen as a shared uneasiness permeated the atmosphere.

"I remember that night so clearly. I was glad to have brought my camera along when everyone sat by the campfire, telling ghost stories," Renee said quietly. "At first, I thought it would be the silliest date. But when she came back with intrigue written all over her face, I knew it was something wonderful.

"And you know what was special about that little date? You didn't do anything extravagant or overly pretentious. That's why I helped you out, afterwards."

"Look, I'm sorry, Renee-"

"She was upset that Wendy was leaving but after befriending you, she seemed a little less apprehensive about senior year. You had a benign quality, Edward."

"I still do-"

"Maybe, you haven't changed. But _my _daughter has changed," Renee said angrily, standing up. "She used to tell me things. She used to-"

Voice breaking, tears falling- Renee couldn't hold back the bursting agony in her chest that cried out with the ricocheting pain of a tormented mother. She wondered what could have been the cause for her daughter's distress. There weren't enough reasons yet the reasons, when accumulated, must have been titanic to abduct her into the darkest vortex of the ocean bed.

Renee bowed her head, leaning against the table while Edward watched helplessly.

_There when she comes on us mistily shining  
And grants us by silence the boon of her roses._

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_A/N: FF won't allow me to align texts to the right... so I guess all woven intertextuality will appear on the left. _

_Credit- **Asking for Roses** by **Robert Frost**_


	8. Chapter 8

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**8\. The Past**

"No way in hell," Bella shouted. "That was unfair. You never stated those rules before we played."

"But they weren't rules," he said. "That was the prize."

"I'm not something you can win, Cullen," she snapped. She tried to shake him off but he held on like an adhesive.

"I'm sorry if I offended you in any way," Edward admitted softly. "I think you're a cool chick."

"That's good to know!" Bella said with an exaggerated smile before walking away.

Any hints of rejection that was shot in his direction turned into a pile of dust that mingled with the soil underneath his shoes as he chased after the disinterested girl. She could hear the steady pace of his footsteps behind her. Peeking over her shoulder, she noticed a pout that spoke volumes of diffidence. Feeling apologetic for the way she'd brushed him off, Bella wondered if she'd been unnecessarily harsh towards Edward.

"Why do you think I'm cool?" she asked quietly. The midday sun lathered a coat of heat and redness across her neck, reminding her that she needed to reapply sunscreen.

"You're confident," Edward responded.

"My confidence," Bella mumbled to herself. "I haven't heard that one before."

"It's not only that. I admire your humor and your obvious alarm when you see me but don't know which direction you should go," he chattered.

Bella nodded, staying quiet.

"And... you don't believe me," Edward said, swinging his body as he shuffled his feet.

"To be frank-"

"Don't be Frank. Just be yourself."

Bella paused, looking at Edward with an amused grin. She took notice of the small dimples on the sides of his cheeks and the timid bravery that colored his eyes. In that frozen instance, she saw something unique in Edward Cullen, making her feel perplexed as to why she'd been adamant about shutting him out.

"I think you're pretty cool, too," Bella complimented.

"And why do you think I'm cool, Miss. Swan?"

"I guess like men who can _bake_."

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The fire crackled, jumping with orange and red as its flames danced. The movements reflected across the surface of Bella's pupils, igniting a shimmery light in the dark brown. She had met some of Edward's friends who were sharing a cabin with him. But that had been before their _date_ where they found two hours of free time in their camp itinerary to sit by the river and share a picnic with each other.

The laughter of families and the cooing of rushing water served as the perfect backdrop for their rendezvous. Edward had wanted to spend more time with her so they decided to sit together by the nightly campfire where some of the instructors shared spine-chilling stories that were backed up by the intermittent hooting of nearby owls.

"Hey, I'll tell you a great story," Edward whispered. "It's short and sweet."

Bella nodded.

"The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 12:07 before she pushed her long, rotting nails through my chest, her other hand muffling my screams. I sat bolt upright, relieved it was only a dream, but as I saw my alarm clock read 12:06, I heard my closet door creak open."

A loud guffaw next to Bella made her jump. She laughed it off nervously as she realized it had just been her listening to the story. Edward gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before looking away with a shy smile. It made Bella wonder if the story had simply been a ruse to catch her off guard.

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_A/N: Credit- the genius who wrote that creative, little story. I only got it from 9gag and Reddit. Just saying, if your patience can't handle it, just wait a month and a half(?) and this will be complete :).  
_


	9. Chapter 9

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**9\. The Present**

The strong pillars of determination supported Renee as disconsolation roared with a fury. She looked up to see Edward's downturned lips. He stared at the woman who was fighting a losing battle with her own tears. She wiped her face with stiff movements; her sniffles subsided. Renee didn't know what was more embarrassing- her daughter's ex watching her have a meltdown or the fact that she'd temporarily forgotten about his presence.

"Renee, if there's anything I can do to help, please-"

"Why did you break Bella's heart?" she asked with a gentleness that stunned Edward.

He sucked in a deep breath, feeling himself swing away from the words that he'd been searching for. He wasn't expecting to go down this road. Edward tried not to recall the distress that had subdued him which demolished his patience until he was filled with nothing but the debris of regret.

"She broke mine," he replied quietly.

"Bella told me about your arguments," Renee said. "But I'm a big believer in listening to two sides of a story. I've always tried to give her unbiased advice but now, I'm not so sure I did the right thing."

"They were teenage squabbles," Edward mumbled.

"She never paid attention to boys whilst growing up, ever since Bradley Pippon ditched her for another girl in middle school. But I knew she liked you a lot. She had her fair share of uncertainties but that's because she can also be shy," Renee stated, looking at Edward as she drank from her glass.

"I _never _meant to hurt her."

"It's too late to describe what you should've or shouldn't have done," Renee informed. "I just want to hear your side."

"It was always me making the first moves. I liked her a lot but I didn't know if she felt the same way about me," he answered, choosing his words carefully. He took a lungful of air, wondering if he should be telling Bella's mom about all the details. He decided against it, choosing to recapitulate. "Slowly, she became more distant and quiet. She was always the realist out of the two of us."

"You dumped her because she grew _quiet_?"

Edward sighed, knowing that Renee had internalized his words to be an outrageous excuse.

"Your wording is-"

"How would you word it?"

There was a motherly fierceness in her eyes that urged him to be cautious of what he would say next. He had never been intimidated by Renee, finding qualities in her persona to bear resemblance to his own mother. It was a long time ago. He didn't remember much from the hazy images seen through the eyes of a young child. His mind skipped to an unexpected thought, contemplating if his mother would have had the same defensive look in her eyes if it'd been her in this situation.

"She pushed me away, Renee," Edward admitted. "My initial efforts, to comfort her, to ask what was wrong and to be with her, proved to be useless. I thought you would've had a clue, seeing how she tells you everything."

"She does tell me everything," Renee whispered sharply, even though it was a feeble attempt to reconcile with her vanishing assurance.

She felt as if she was holding a ribbon between her fingertips, letting its colorful silk sail through the wind. Before she knew what was happening, it had slipped out of her grasp- so quickly, so skilfully. After that split second for her attention to flicker away, she could only watch the delicate, little thing surge into the air before completely disappearing behind her. She wondered what would happen to its fragile beauty when the wind carried it into the eye of the tornado.

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_A/N: "Plot is people. Human emotions and desires founded on the realities of life, working at cross purposes, getting hotter and fiercer as they strike against each other until finally there's an explosion- that's Plot." ~ __Leigh Brackett_


	10. Chapter 10

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**10\. The Past**

"You, Bella Swan, are a lateral thinking puzzle."

"Just what every girl wants to hear."

Edward picked up his pace and skidded in front of her, blocking her path. Holding up his hands, his eyes danced with mirth. There was a tinge of secrecy under the amusement that oozed from his smile.

"You're playing hard-to-get," he declared as if he'd found the secret to the universe.

"I'm not," Bella argued.

"Then, why not go on another date?" Edward asked, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

"You are a hopeless case."

"No, I'm a _hopeful_," he corrected. "Tell me that you didn't have fun with me yesterday... oh and what about last night? Enjoyable?"

"You make it sound as if we spent the night together." She looked at him with narrowed eyes but his only response was a mischievous smirk, sent in her direction.

"You're the one who chose to interpret it that way. I guess someone has a little crush."

"Unfortunately, I don't," Bella stated as she transitioned into a jog.

He kept up with her, matching the fall of his footsteps with her frantic ones. He stared at her flustered expression before saying, "What are you running away from?"

As if the answer couldn't be more obvious. "You."

"I've already asked your mom, though," he blurted, all of a sudden.

Bella stopped so fast that Edward sped ahead before backtracking. She looked at him blankly, waiting for him to reveal the deeper meaning behind his oracular statement.

"She said that you should give me a chance," Edward confessed. "My grandparents raised me to be a gentleman. I'm not going to push you for sex or anything. I just want to court you."

He mumbled under his breath, about whether 'court' was the appropriate word to use whilst overlooking his laughable remark about sex. With a firm voice, he continued, "I've always admired you from afar. But you never appeared to notice me, even when we were in the same classes."

Edward would have kept listing more reasons for Bella to consider his offer if it weren't for the flabbergasted look on her face. He waved a hand in front of her eyes, wondering if the gears in her head had suddenly clunked to a stationary pause.

"My mother said what?" Her loud exclamation echoed throughout the leafy foliage.

"So you still haven't gotten over that part yet," he muttered. "Essie and Carl recently bought one of your mother's prints. It was a good icebreaker for when Renee and I talked."

Bella was so perplexed with the words that flew out of his mouth that she didn't even bother questioning why he nicknamed his grandparents such vibrant names or the fact that he was on a first-name basis with her mom. Bella admired Renee's profession and was often awestruck by the love that was captured through the lenses. While Bella enjoyed the camp activities, Renee was able to wind down and capture a different kind of beauty. Although photographing nature was a jump from her usual engagement and wedding shoots, Renee was talented in front of all subjects. She was able to memorialize pulchritude out of the living and the seemingly inanimate.

"-I thought she was pretty amazing. We talked for so long, this morning," Edward chattered.

"I've never really ventured into the dating scene. That's why," she interrupted quickly. "I talk about boys with Ma, all the time, but they're just jokes. I'm a skeptic when it comes to love... especially the romantic kind."

Almost immediately, she blushed at the bluntness of her forthright opinion as nobody had mentioned the topic of love. But Edward only smiled.

"That's okay," he replied softly. "Maybe I can change your mind."

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	11. Chapter 11

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**11\. The Present  
**

Edward was having a hard time understanding why Renee hadn't kicked him out of the house already. He certainly wasn't going to complain. But he did resort to a moment of silent rumination. She seemed to have battled through an emotional breakdown, an interrogative phase and was now participating in a staring contest with him. He swallowed nervously.

A part of Edward was yelling at his limbs to make a run for it, before Renee would miraculously detect his shameful vehemence. He had been brusque. He had been gruff, having felt a deep betrayal from Bella. It'd made sense in his mind to pull away from her, knowing that she had been the first to give up.

_She never loved me the way I loved her_, he'd tell himself.

But his execution had been disastrous, lacking the touch of professionalism. He wished he'd treated her differently afterwards. But none of that could be changed. Maybe, that was why he felt the need to pester her mom so frequently, symbolizing the start of his amendments. She was Bella's best friend. Her confidante. The most beautiful mother-daughter relationship blossomed between them, creating an ethereal love that surpassed all corners and perimeters.

However, the fact that Renee had admitted to her own consternation about Bella made him uneasy. It explained the sorrow in Bella's eyes when he'd last seen her, confirming that it exceeded the brittle demise of their relationship. He wished he'd recognized it earlier. But with the hurt that had seethed from him, would he have believed it?

Despite Renee's struggles with her own anxieties, she was able to retain some clarity. She knew Bella was at a stage where she couldn't defeat the quicksand of her depression. Renee didn't know _why_ or _how_ but there were too many twists and turns, ensuring a hard navigation for the searcher. Sometimes, feelings could be so axiomatic but terribly ineffable on other occasions. The depths of Bella's troubles seemed to echo for external support.

Renee harrowed herself, wondering if she had overworked during the weeks that led to Bella's downward spiral. Perhaps, she'd glimpsed over Bella's worries- forgetting her daughter when she needed her most. Perhaps, she'd placed too much trust in Edward's hands. He was just a boy. A boy who didn't know what he was doing. Even though his act of pretending had deceived her most brilliantly.

Bella was _h__er _daughter. _Her _responsibility.

"I'm sorry if I've been too harsh on you, Edward," Renee whispered. "A mother can lose control when they see their baby girl become someone unrecognizable."

He nodded understandingly. "I never stopped caring, Renee. I just... didn't know how to go about my feelings for her."

Renee remained quiet, taking in his words. However, Edward noticed a puzzled look in her eyes. The sudden thought that had fleeted across her mind was debatable, though lacking a strong foundation to fully persuade her. She'd never considered it until now, due to its unreasonableness. The cause and effect didn't seem balanced. Bella would have mourned... but she wouldn't have changed so dramatically.

"Do you think this has got to do with Marc-"

Her words were cut off by the loud slam of a door from upstairs. Edward quickly stood up, as if acting on instinct. He ran into the living room where he came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the stairs, awakening to his delayed realization. He would be pushing his luck and taking Renee's politeness for granted if he placed his own desires ahead of what was apposite.

Bella didn't know he was here; she didn't want to see him. He'd have to accept that, even though he was desperate to ameliorate the problem.

"She's awake," Renee stated. "I'm going to check up on her."

Edward nodded, shuffling his feet. Doing what he felt was right, he whispered, "I don't think I'll wait. Goodbye Renee."

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_A/N: Ooh doesn't the confusion feel so splendid? _


	12. Chapter 12

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**12\. The Past**

"Wait for me!"

Edward laughed at Bella's scream as he jumped through the bushes. Her athleticism had slept in this morning, delivering a delightful surprise to Edward's face as he was able to outrun her without a strenuous input.

After ducking behind a tree and scaring Bella with a loud screech, he received a slap on the shoulder and a growl from her. He chuckled before yelling out encouragements for her to keep on going as he sprinted towards the riverbank.

"I pulled a muscle, yesterday!" Bella shouted as she trailed after him.

"I'll let you know that I have a PhD in Bullshit," Edward hollered back.

Bella rolled her eyes playfully. Soon, they arrived at the running water where Bella bent down to splash some of the coldness on her face. Her cheeks were colored with a peachy glow from the summer heat and the spontaneous race.

She got up and wiped away the water droplets with her arm, appreciating the calmness of her natural surroundings. Edward stood behind her and gently kissed her shoulder. His feelings for her were growing rapidly. He'd never been so energetic around girls but Bella wasn't like the others. She was a white rose amongst the traditional red. Her eyes sparkled with the phosphorescence of purity; a beautiful innocence surrounded her being.

"What are the chances of you being my girlfriend?" Edward asked softly.

Bella turned around with a jubilant smile. His eyes lit up when he registered the excitement on her face.

As she spent more and more time with the boy who had an inextinguishable enthusiasm, she had gradually started to appreciate his constant presence. Her hesitant feelings towards him blossomed into the finale of spring, until she was no longer afraid to hide behind the sepals of her flower.

"I think we can give it a shot, Mr. Hopeful," Bella whispered.

She threw her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

"I've got the most beautiful girl in my arms!" he yelled, eliciting a laugh from Bella. "You really haven't got a clue about how the other guys look at you."

Bella's forehead hit his chest with a small thud as she shook her head.

"It's true. A few weeks ago when Marcus made a statement about your legs, I felt like wrestling him to the ground."

She rolled her eyes, finding his standards of chivalry to be unbeatable. Marcus was a shy boy in the same grade as them who appeared to have more thoughts in his head than all of his utterances in class. She had the vaguest memory of him attending the same preschool as her but they'd lost contact a long time ago. Bella never made the effort to reignite their acquaintanceship, even when he'd transferred to their school in the middle of junior year.

She would have described her hometown, Knox, as the love child between a metropolitan city and a small-town freckle on a map. Despite its vivid art culture and social scene, it only had four high schools scattered across its fertile soil. Often, it was a stepping stone for many as they came and left- whether they wanted a break from chasing their onerous dreams or simply desired something in-between.

"I wouldn't have expected him to say that," Bella mumbled, picturing the sandy-haired boy.

"He can come off as pretty reserved, due to the pressure and expectations from his parents, but he's outgoing too," Edward responded. Bella nodded, aware of the house parties Marcus had recently hosted. An act of defiance, perhaps.

"We all have so many different sides," Bella observed. "See, I thought you were the humble type. But now I've finally discovered the little, rich boy in you."

Edward answered by tickling Bella's sides. She jerked away with a shriek. After their voices had died down, a sombre mood emanated from the roots beneath their feet to the branches over their heads. Edward looked up at the sky before muttering, "For most of my life, I grew up with my grandparents. They _did_ give me a lot of attention, especially after the death of my parents. But I'm not a whiner if things don't go my way. At least... I hope not."

"How did they-"

"Car accident," he replied. "They were coming back home from a party at work."

The disemboguing sadness of his words made Bella press her hand against his cheek, causing him to turn his face towards her palm and kiss her soft skin. He held her close, grazing his lips across her forehead. The birds had stopped chirping, letting the rustling leaves play in solitude.

"It was over a decade ago. I don't remember much. As a kid, I used to think that I would turn into a crime-fighting vigilante as half of the fictional superheroes ever created consists of orphans. That never happened, though," he recounted with a snicker.

"You're cuter than all of the comic book heroes combined," Bella commented, stunning him with another wide smile.

"Thank you, Superwoman."

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	13. Chapter 13

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**13\. The Present**

Renee could hear the running water from the bathroom tap. There had never been another situation in her life that called for so much attention, threatening to destroy her entire ecosystem. Her daughter had been delightful to raise. They did girly activities, like painting their nails, dyeing their hair and talking about how silly boys could be. But they also went on hikes, discussed politics and read books together. To Renee, Bella would always be the tiny baby with clenched fists and a loud cry. She was the epitome of _family_.

"Honey?" she called, lightly tapping on the door.

There was no reply from the other side. Renee opened her mouth, about to ask if everything was all right when the door suddenly swung open. Bella looked at her mom, but not for long as the stinging tears of guilt forced her to glare at the floor. She ducked under Renee's arm and walked into her bedroom.

"Talk to me, Bella," Renee whispered. "You're not being yourself. What is it, baby?"

Bella remained silent, crawling back into bed. Her mother followed and sat on the edge of the mattress, wincing at how palpable her daughter's upset was. But how could she help, if Bella kept refusing the hand that she was offering? The denial of a problem was the worst obstacle to overcome as it required a great amount of faith in knowing that tomorrow could be changed with today's results.

"You can trust me, honey," she tried again. "I'll always love you, even if you've... performed a stupid heist or whatever. I'm your mother, Bella. I'm _here_."

Bella's lips didn't move; they were stubbornly sealed with a despondency that couldn't be unzipped. Renee stared at the locks of her daughter's hair that were visible from the duvet she was submerged in- concealing her body beneath the white softness, as if seeking a purity that had once existed between mother and daughter. As if seeking a purity that had once existed within herself.

"You're not giving me any clues here," Renee murmured. Her hands trembled; her face twisted into a nervous grimace. "I don't know what to _do_, Bella. You've never acted this way before... you always tell me when something's wrong. I can't help but assume things.

"We can talk through it together, honey. If I keep guessing what's wrong, I'll be wasting valuable time. And for all I know, I could be going in the wrong direction."

Her mother sighed, exuding a great sense of shame in Bella. The poignant reminders of her accursed feelings rose to an insufferable high.

"H-has this got to do with Marcus' death?"

Bella didn't reply; Renee continued.

"You guys didn't seem to be friends... even when he moved over."

A redness burnt across Bella's skin as tears crept down her face, secretly and silently- desperate to abscond. She faced away from her mother, curling into her despair. She had never grappled with her own burdens before- always falling into the arms of her only love- her mother. But this time, she felt an addiction to carry the boulder on her back, channeling her inner-Sisyphus under the guise that her punishment was well-deserved.

_The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence._

"Don't do this, honey," Renee said, starting to cry. "I know I sound impatient. Maybe, even silly. But I can't watch you be like this. You're depressed... and it's affecting all of us."

The familiarity of those words made Bella stop breathing. Edward's words, just before their bond had shattered with the last of an angry dispute, had once held the same meaning. She wanted to tell her mother that those words _hurt_. But Bella felt weak, as if she hadn't eaten for days. She wanted to peel herself off the bed and stand up. To scream and to cry. But she couldn't move. _Why?_

Then, she remembered. Her bones had been broken, weeping for extra time to heal. She had also come to terms with her fate, flinging herself into the darkest black hole that the universe had to offer. Her feet were bound into the unnatural shapes of pain- just like women of the past, rendering her useless to walk and run and escape from the darkness, with lotuses as her feet and a labyrinth as her road.

_The carpet stretched from one end of the hall to the other, clean and eternally verdant except for a faint, irregular dark stain before my door..._

There was so much more to the gray area that Renee wouldn't understand. But she clung onto that hope. If only the melancholy could be exorcised and set Bella free. But everything came at a price. And even hope wasn't able to afford its expensive demand.

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_A/N: An imitation of thoughts. Sorry for making y'all read between the lines.  
_

_Credit- **The Bell Jar** by **Sylvia Plath**_


	14. Chapter 14

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**14\. The Past**

"I love you, Ma," Bella said, hugging her mother from behind.

"You always act cute when you want something," Renee commented with suspicion.

"Just wanna spend more time with you. That's all."

Renee smiled at her daughter, pressing a kiss on her temple. She remembered thinking to herself, _'the most perfect angel has been placed under my care'_, right after the tears had been shed from holding her newborn. Despite her fears of what the unforeseen future would hold, Renee had only focused on the precious bundle in her arms. She couldn't dwell on the lingering emptiness that her husband had left behind; she didn't think about her own estrangement from her abusive household. All she saw, through the tunnel vision of awe, was the baby that had been created out of love.

"I'm going to do my best as a new mom," she'd whispered, kissing Bella's tiny fingers. That day, she'd told herself to always strive for her child's happiness. "You're the only person that matters to me in this world."

"Ma?"

Renee extracted herself from the thoughts that had flooded her mind. She stared at Bella. Brown hair, brown eyes. Just like her father. But the shape of her nose and the curve of her jaw had come from her. Nostalgia giggled in Renee's ears as she realized just how fast her daughter was growing up- shooting into the sky with a brand new view from above the clouds.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked, concerned.

Renee shook her head. "Oh, it's nothing."

"Something's up, Ma. Tell me what's wrong," Bella insisted. Just as her hand touched her mother's shoulder, Renee pulled Bella in for a hug.

"So this is what it feels like to be getting old," Renee mumbled. "My baby girl is already so _big_. And it hasn't even felt like seventeen years yet."

"You sound like a distant relative," Bella replied gently. "You've been next to me, every day, Ma."

"I wish I could go back and appreciate all the little moments," her mother whispered. "Like when we first bought a schoolbag or when you used to come with me on my shoots."

"We'll buy another schoolbag, then," Bella encouraged patiently. "And I always love scouting for new locations with you."

Renee pressed her lips together as she admired her only child, placing her hand over her heart. The tremors of her love was perceptible from all eleven dimensions.

"If only your father could see you," she said with a look of rue.

"We're supposed to be having fun at this camp," Bella reminded. "That's what you said when we drove here."

"I know. I know," Renee agreed, nodding determinedly. "Okay, tell me what's been happening between you and Edward."

"We've been hanging out. Abseiling was intense yesterday. I accidentally scraped my knee," Bella said, pointing to her abrasion. "Edward's good at everything, as per usual. He was like a _spider monkey_."

"Wasn't I right about dating him?" Renee said, poking Bella's arm. "His grandparents are incredible people."

"Just like you," Bella pointed out. "You know... you did pretty well at raising me up, all by yourself."

"It wasn't too difficult," Renee stated thoughtfully. "You've always been a good listener. If I had Megan Valero as my daughter, I think I'd probably be dead by now, at the tender age of forty-three."

"Megan won the award for bully of the year in eighth grade. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't compare me to her, Ma."

Renee laughed. Parenting wasn't easy- the ups and downs often caused lightheadedness. But it was the human desire for logical steps of improvement that galvanized the search for the best versions of themselves. She'd always made sure that her daughter grew up with an open mind and was acutely aware of the endless doubting she could do as the world spun under her feet with new headlines and daily problems.

Silken honesty protected the family tie, crystallizing the strongest foundation of an unshakeable trust. Even if the weather vane flipped a hundred and eighty degrees, Renee knew her daughter would be able to emerge from the other side of the howling wind. There was a strength in Bella that had yet to be unleashed. She just didn't know it would come so soon.

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	15. Chapter 15

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**15\. The Present**

The deluge of the swampy water washed away the shreds of certainty left in Renee, leaving her clawing at the wispy strands of moss green nature. Her fingers grabbed for chunks of survival, like a woman in a disaster film who would be one of the many to die under the ire of the tsunami. Its thread-like grassiness- short and spiky- waved at her as the excessive mud flooded its feeble substratum.

The pelting rain landed against her face; she let out a strangled cry. Renee aspired to be the warrior on the battlefield who matched the bravery of a Thracian gladiator. Instead of being stranded in a moment of utter despair, she imagined it to be a cry of victory. For herself. For her daughter.

She had to learn the natural fluctuations of motherhood from scratch, knowing that she could never find inspiration in her own mother, Patricia. Renee's childhood had been drenched in the smell of unwanted booze. Alcoholism smiled sweetly at her from the brazen words of her mother and the blank eyes of her father.

Running away at eighteen was the best thing she did for herself.

As she'd watched Edward stroll away from the house, day after day- head down, hands in his pockets- from the safety of her curtains, she knew that there was a flicker of hope that shone from the boy. The repentance in his eyes seemed to burn with an inimitable regret that urged Renee not to push him out of Bella's life completely.

_ She needs external support_, she'd remind herself.

Renee blindly reached for the unbroken strings of hope in her chest. She could seek professional help, convincing Bella to see a psychologist. But what would that say about her strength as a mother? She felt the blades of hurt glide across her skin.

_If you're physically unwell, you would ask for help. So if you're mentally unwell, you'd also-_

"Exactly. So it wouldn't say anything about me as a person," she convinced herself. The humiliation she felt for putting her own feelings first, in the wake of insecurity, was vitriolic. Its refusal to leave made matters worse.

_How does it feel to know that there are things your daughter can't possibly express to you?_

"I will not let my pride get in the way," she said. Her shaky conviction grew louder.

_Maybe, Barbara was right. You keep thinking you've been a good mother but you're just like Patricia... incompetent, self-obsessed-_

"Shut up!" Renee yelled, slamming her fists down on the table as strands of hair fell across her face. A dark scowl flashed in its momentary audacity.

_You're losing it, Renee._

"I'm not," she hissed. "I am not losing control. I am _not _Patricia. I will not give up on my own child."

Her fiery anger lit across the treetops, producing spirals of smoke that ascended to the heavens in silent prayer. Whatever that was tormenting her child, they'd pull through it _together_. Whether it was the break-up with Edward, the death of Marcus or the coincidental timing of depression- as if it'd been ready to pounce at an opportune moment of weakness.

Its icy gaze of intimidation beckoned a curtain of shadows to fall across its next victim, slowly driving the host onto a road of self-deprecation. It smiled with a satisfied smirk as it heard the crunch of metal against soft flesh. Its modus operandi was to eradicate the clear perspective of reality, diluting it with incongruities. Like an illusionist, it was able to create a dystopia that plagued the minds of the helpless.

Hope couldn't bloom in the vast drought-lands.

Sunshine was blocked by the shoulders of burnt-marshmellow clouds.

The only cure would be to wait. To wait for the first droplets of rain which would quench the thirst for self-hatred. Such salvation would not be easy to come across but with the ebb and flow of the crops, as summers and winters brushed by each other, triumph would eventually arrive. It would coax Bella out of her hiding. It would be the cry of victory Renee wished for. It was the timeless essence of a mother's hope.

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	16. Chapter 16

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**16\. The Past**

From the outside of their flashlight-swirling domain, it would have looked like two amorphous ghosts facing each other whilst telling horror stories- shapes changing with every movement and reaction. But from within the little citadel that consisted of pillows and blankets, a mother and her child smiled at the funny faces they pulled during their macabre stories.

Moments like these were not new to them at all. They only had each other in their lives, having existed as a duo for all of Bella's life. Renee had attempted to rejoin the world of dating, several times, but she never found a suitable man- a man much like Charlie Swan. Some disliked the fact that she had a daughter from an earlier marriage, whereas others reminded her too much of the drunks in her own family. There came a time when she finally realized that she didn't need to search for another human being outside the family she'd created for the intrinsic meaning of happiness. Her daughter was all she needed. Lonely, it could have been. But it was a wonderful life.

"Enough with your ghost stories," Renee announced. "I want to know _all_ the details of you and your _boyfriend_."

"Ma, you can be so nosy at times," Bella whined. "I'll never understand you."

"What's there to understand? I'm a mother looking out for her daughter. If he's being a little crook, I'll throw him in the river," Renee said with a serious expression.

"I'm just going to pretend that I never heard that," Bella muttered. "Edward's... nice. He's always so patient with me but I feel like our ideas are situated in different locations."

She glanced at her mother, raising her eyebrows to ask if she knew what she meant. Renee looked at her inquisitively.

"He seems so _sure _about me," Bella expanded. "He's had three girlfriends before but apparently they never lasted over two weeks. He thinks this one will be different."

"Are you not sure about him?"

"No, yes... I am but it's just"- Bella let out a big sigh- "I don't know. It's hard to explain. He's very _talkative_ and open about how he feels. The guy's never negative about something but that scares me because it feels like he's trying really hard to make this work with a sulky girlfriend."

"You always have a choice," Renee stated softly. "Honey, do what will make you happy."

"I'm happy when he's around, but I can also be happy when he's not around," she murmured. "So it does nothing to help me in this situation."

"Take it slow, then," her mother suggested. "The best things in this world are nurtured with patience."

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Ma. I like Edward a lot... maybe, it's even more than that. But you know that I've never gone there before. I always thought there would be time for boys when I got to college."

"And that is exactly why you should take it slow," Renee said with a smile. "Edward seems like a patient boy who is smitten with you. He can never take his eyes off you."

"Really?"

"When did you get this unobservant?"

Bella looked at the flashlight in her hand as she thought about Edward's comment of her never noticing other people's attention on her. She disliked being in the spotlight, finding it to be more comfortable when she resided backstage. She was never a big performer- hardly a drama queen- so, the stage was never the tree house that she'd run to whenever she felt lonely. But on the other hand, she knew it was different for Edward. He'd been in a number of school plays, with his loud singing and compelling acting.

They were of different personalities.

But opposites attracted. They were joyful when in each other's company.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she wondered when the time would come for them to reject the oppugnant traits within each other. There had to be a dividing point- a mark in history that dictated the splitting of common beliefs- where they simply couldn't understand why the other acted the way that they did. Edward made her feel special, like a girl who kept receiving chocolates and flowers at work. But what would happen when the novelty of their relationship plummeted to a gentle trickle?

"Bedtime?" Renee asked. Bella nodded, walking away from the thoughts in her mind with drowsy reluctance.

As she looked at her mother, carefully analyzing the lines on her face, she knew that if everything didn't work out, she'd always have Love. It was inside the only woman she could ever love so dearly, tearing away all other possibilities of comparison.

Settling into a relaxing calm, Bella nestled in the pillows of their makeshift tent. With a click of her flashlight, the cabin fell into darkness as the ablepsia of sleep invited her in.

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	17. Chapter 17

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**17\. The Present**

The alarm clock blared its dutiful chime, waking Renee from a sleep that could not be made more comfortable with additional pillows behind her neck. As she'd tossed and turned throughout the night, she became the tired soul who was caught in the restlessness of her thoughts. It was ironic because nothing ever _happened _during the day, yet enough did to cause her unease. The reverberating silence of the house was just as deafening as the frequently used loudspeakers from their next-door neighbor. The discordant notes of silence was worse in Renee's opinion.

After slamming her hand against the alarm clock that had meant no harm, she pulled herself out of bed, knowing that one of them had to be impervious to the elephant in the room. Her hair- strands of matted carelessness- bobbled slightly as she walked to her daughter's room. As usual, it was filled with the stale air of bleakness.

She opened the blinds, allowing the softest glow of sunshine to filter through.

"Honey?" Renee whispered, pushing the blanket below Bella's chin. "First day of being a senior. It'll be your last year of high school, baby."

She waited.

Then, a soft whisper approached with vigilance.

"I can't, Ma..." Bella stated before the rest of her sentence was muffled by the shifting of her body against the mattress.

"You can do it, sweetheart."

It wasn't the first time Bella couldn't get out of bed. On some mornings- the better ones- she was less lethargic. Occasionally, Renee would have to knock on the door, reminding Bella that she'd been showering for half an hour. However, the residue of her mother's positivity lingered- though nobody knew for how long. Renee would sit next to her as she ate breakfast. That was often followed by her returning straight to bed with somnolence, ending any further progress.

"Tell me what's wrong, Bella," Renee begged. Her urgency desisted to hide. "Please. Please help me here."

Outside: the bark of a dog, the thumps of a jogger's footsteps, the slamming of a front door.

But it was quiet inside. Renee closed her eyes, trying to meditate into a state of reassurance. The negative mass of her temporary surroundings offered a weightlessness that contrasted the sorrow she wore around her neck. She was rehabilitated with a new supply of patience but time was no conquerable force when it came to human emotions. Gradually, the sound of a singular voice pierced through the muted anguish.

"I don't want you to worry," Bella murmured.

"How..."- Renee shook her head in disbelief- "how can you expect me not to _worry_?"

"I'm a burden," came the whisper of exhaustion.

"Isabella," Renee started to say. She was made up of shaky hands and helpless wonder. "You are my daughter. How can you _ever_ be a burden?"

"I'm a burden, Ma."

The softest acknowledgement of her mother slipped through Bella's lips, evoking an immeasurable pain in Renee. It was the strangled bleat of a lamb who called out to the green hills that weren't so green after all. Although Bella was lost and dehydrated from her days away from society, she still knew how to break her mother's heart with the gentlest words.

"You're not a burden," Renee half-shouted, hoping to hear the declaration thunder across the flaming sky. In the softest plea, she whispered, "Just talk to me like your friend. We used to share everything together, sweetheart."

Bella felt the paralysis encircle her ankles before they navigated across her stomach. The numbness traveled through her bellybutton and into her chest where it squeezed at her heart with a stupendous force. On the outer plains of her body, it wound around her neck like a choker necklace that was clasped on too tight. As she inhaled the biggest gulp of air she could manage, she knew she'd fall under, powerless. She watched her body penetrate through the brutal shards of glass, wondering if the sight of blood would allow her to faint into a sea of oblivion.

The swirls of red danced around her figure, dyeing her brown ends into a majestic crimson. She was unable to move, feel or see. She was an entity that existed between the boundaries of apathy and confusion. As she drifted, she pushed away the guilt of her reality and stepped away from the burden that she shed, like a cicada who had left behind a ghost of itself. There was something elegant about the way she floated in blissful ignorance.

The world of inertia welcomed her return.

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	18. Chapter 18

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**18\. The Past**

Edward kissed Bella on the forehead before they hauled the kayak out of the water and dragged it to the shed. The ambiance was inundated with the smell of camaraderie. She waddled around in her soaking shoes, laughing at the squeaky sounds that were made. After they hung up the life jackets and placed the paddles on the rack, they made their way over to the cabins.

"We'll meet by the river in an hour?" he asked, before taking off.

While walking up the trail, Bella admired the displays of summer's scenery. She stared at the little birds that were accustomed to tweeting at her whenever she stepped too close. Caught in a moment of reverie, she wondered what freedom looked like with a pair of wings and a picturesque view. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't a tad jealous of their adventures in flight.

Soon, Bella found herself outside the cabin. She pulled off her shoes and socks before entering, discovering the cool air to be refreshing. Her eyes adjusted to the new lighting as it contrasted the bright rays, outside.

"Honey, are you back?" Renee shouted.

"Yeah, Ma," she yelled back, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. "You know, you can participate in these activities as well. There are heaps of parents with their kids."

"Oh, I know. But you're having so much fun with Edward," her mother replied, amused. "I've been talking to Jane a lot and helping out with some of the kids. I wouldn't mind working here."

"And drive back for three hours every time you have a client?"

"I suppose not," Renee grumbled.

Renee followed Bella into the bathroom, temporarily forgetting what she wanted to say as she stared at the dirt marks that stained her daughter's cheeks.

"Capsized?"

Bella pouted, looking at her mother through the reflection of the mirror.

"Don't worry. You'll smell nice and clean after that well-deserved shower," Renee affirmed. "In you go."

After washing her hair and drawing indistinguishable pictures on the tiled wall, she was wrapped in not only a fluffy towel but a coat of freshness as she grew excited to meet Edward. Bella slipped on a pair of breathable sandals and a floral dress before heading towards the riverbank. She skipped a little and hopped around the twigs lying in her path.

She didn't expect the wait to be long. Every time she heard footsteps, she turned around to see if it was him. Embraced in a lukewarm hug of distractions, she found herself staring at the kids playing on the rope swing. Just as a squeal pierced through the trees and resulted in a loud splash, Bella snapped out of her daydream as she realized she'd been sitting there for quite some time. Twisting around to see if Edward had popped up, behind her, she was met with heavy disappointment.

She wondered if he was still showering, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt and wait a few more minutes. But those minutes turned into another twenty, then forty. Soon, she realized that the giggling kids had long departed and it was just her, facing nature without much of a jovial smile. Stalking away from their meeting point and bypassing a group of teenagers with their instructor, Bella felt unease leeching on her skin.

She contemplated the possibility of him forgetting to meet by the river. Perhaps, he was waiting outside her cabin. As she was about to walk back on the trail, wondering if that theory was correct, she noticed Edward standing near the mess hall. His eyes shone with enthusiasm; his lips pulled back to reveal a top row of straight teeth. With sun-kissed bronze hair and a flourishing tan that accentuated his green eyes, it would have been a sight to behold if it weren't for the girl who stood next to him, affected by the same joke that they shared in laughter.

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	19. Chapter 19

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**19\. The Present**

The first week wasn't easy.

Bella's behavior towards school was sluggish. Renee stayed by her side, encouraging her to get dressed. But the consistency of her motherly attempts could not change the resulting pathos that radiated from Renee as she'd walk away with a sigh, knowing it'd take more time to produce any substantial changes. Leaving the bedroom of her daughter's poignant nightmares, Renee would trudge to her bed and descend into helpless sobs. She'd dig out a photo of her husband.

"Why did you leave me here to do this on my own? I'm not strong enough to help her. She's not giving"- a sudden hiccup interrupted her cries- "me a chance."

But with every wax of the moon came the wane, controlling the intensity of the tidal changes. Slowly, Renee's words sunk into Bella's blues and colored it a lighter shade- mixing a dab of hope with a splatter of endeavor. On different days, her mother's optimism diminished at different points. Sometimes, Bella would try and try until she'd inevitably fall back into the clutches of her mind. On other days, she'd pull on a cardigan before reverting to her state of unwillingness, finding no purpose in getting up.

"Whatever it is, it'll get better, sweetheart," Renee would coo gently, hoping that the meaning of her words would trigger an understanding in Bella. "I'm not going to leave you. We don't abandon our loved ones."

But it wasn't the meaning of those words that Bella couldn't grasp. It was her lack of motivation to see through the hollowness of such feeble statements. Expectations occupied everyone's minds, setting limits and deadlines. She knew that there was an expiry date for patience. The maintenance of continual dosages would prove to be too hard for some. But not her mother, not Renee.

It was this revelation that sparked the most guilt in Bella, providing more reasons for her to keep the burden on her shoulders. She wasn't _worth _saving; she wasn't worth crying over. She didn't understand why her mother had to worry so much, yet she did at the same time. Through the addictive haze of a murky reality, she didn't want to comprehend the extent of her mother's unassailable love. It was useless, pointless... a total waste of energy. If Bella had the power to create or destroy the universe, she'd erase such a love, knowing that it'd save her mother a lifetime of pain.

She was the color-blind super-scientist from Mary's Room, only seeing a world of black and white. But unlike Mary, she wouldn't be released into an existence of _color_. The faded tones of her world had lost its original meaning- they couldn't be retrieved. She accepted her monochromatic eternity of hidden experiences and impossible goals. A let-down, she was and a let-down she would continue to be.

But in the arbitrary works of life, her gray-scale world became tinted with the slightest hope for Renee. One day, instead of stopping at the checkpoints that she'd been at before, Bella ventured a little further. Her mother combed her hair and held her schoolbag before they got in the car. Bella had set a new benchmark for herself, enabling the accomplishment to shine brighter than all of her failures.

Two weeks without school would have set her back but that concern was located in the furthest corner of her mind, requiring a pair of binoculars for it to be seen. Renee kissed her daughter and promised to wait outside as soon as school finished.

The buzzing murmurs and wary stares followed Bella as she walked from class to class. Keeping her head low, she was able to push away the echoes of her torment. But the biggest torment came at the beginning of her last period- through the slap of biology notes against the table, reprimanding her for her absence. It was the announcement of her lab partner who had been crowned a dutiful collector of her resources.

"Hi Bella," whispered the boy she hadn't forgotten.

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	20. Chapter 20

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**20\. The Past**

In middle school, Bradley Pippon had informed her with a chest puffed out in pride that he fancied another girl who went by the name of Veronica Davies. The hurt that Bella had felt when she was pushed to the ground by his rude words was of no comparison to the shock that electrified her in this very moment as she witnessed the ebullience of the pair.

It wasn't necessarily the shameful insufficiency of her trust in Edward, but more of the betrayal in realizing that he had better things to do. If she hadn't waited for nearly an hour, she might have viewed the situation from a pair of clearer eyes- not ones that were stormed with tears. She accepted the sting of her rejection.

As she was about to walk away and resort to a private sulk in her cabin, she realized that her name was being called out.

"Bella!"

Ignoring Edward's unimpressive shout, Bella continued to march ahead without looking back. For a few wavering seconds, she thought he hadn't come after her as the sound of her own racing heart blocked out the ambient noises of the summer camp. The double-sided nature of Bella's umbrage consisted of her being taken aback by his new priorities as well as her realization that she might be acting impetuously.

_But I'm not overreacting, _she argued with herself. _He was the one who stood me up_.

She was so immersed in the undulation of her thoughts that she didn't realize Edward had caught up, proceeding to grasp her arm and whirl her around. She was speechless as she faced the apologetic boy. The penitence in his eyes caught Bella in between a flinch and a glare- not being equipped to respond to his obvious remorse.

"I know... I forgot," he murmured. "I'm sorry, Bella."

She glanced at the girl who he'd been talking to. "It's fine, Edward. Go finish your conversation with her."

"No. _Please_ don't shut me out like that," Edward whispered. She narrowed her eyes at his exhortation.

"You don't get to tell me what I can or can't do," she sneered. "Leave me alone and go back to whatever-her-name-is."

Bella tried to dash away from Edward but then she stupidly remembered that he was still holding onto her arm. With a heavy sigh, she asked very slowly.

"Let go of me." A simple request.

"No." A straightforward reply.

Giving him a dark glare that amplified her annoyance, she threatened, "I'm going to scream if you-"

"Will you just listen to me?" he interjected exasperatedly. "You can call whatever-her-name-is _Jessica_. I was talking to her boyfriend earlier before she introduced herself. And then I see you strutting away."

"I wasn't-"

"Okay, you weren't _strutting_ away," he corrected, rolling his eyes. "You just happened to walk away whilst shaking your very beautiful backside."

Bella analyzed the playfulness in his eyes as he stared at her with a look she couldn't pinpoint. It seemed to be a delicate blend of adoration and anticipation, with no harsh lines or uncomplimentary colors. Not a rough edge in sight or a smudge of triumph. The scintillating intensity in his green eyes brought upon a moment of inattention as Bella was caught off guard and somewhat surprised. His shy grin lingered.

"You're not going to say a comeback to that?" Edward muttered, shocked.

Suddenly, shaking her head and resuming her look of vexation, she scoffed at Edward which only made him laugh as she realized just how delayed her reaction would have been.

"Never thought that _you _of all people would like a compliment about the buttocks," he chuckled.

Ignoring his statement, Bella stated quietly, "You made me wait for so long. I thought you forgot about me."

He stared into her eyes before gently cupping her face. With his thumbs tracing her cheekbones, Bella noticed his flippancy receding immediately. "I forgot about our meeting and I'm stupid. I know. But I'm sorry for hurting you. You know that I could never forget you. My feelings for you have... grown immensely, Bella Swan."

She swallowed nervously.

"Please don't ever shut me out," he whispered, almost inaudibly. "I can't bear to see you walk away. Talk to me, even if you have nothing interesting to say. I still want to know what's up in _there_." He lightly tapped his temple.

She nodded, wondering if she could ever promise him the mystery of her own mind.

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	21. Chapter 21

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**21\. The Present**

From the beginning of class, she could feel his persistent gaze burning a hole into her skull. She propped her elbow on the table and hid her face away from him, forcing herself to examine the trivial doodles she'd created in another wasted period.

The low whispering in the classroom gradually escalated into a loud engagement of conversations between people across different tables as Bella realized Mr. Banner had left the room. Her eyes widened as she knew Edward would take his opportunity wisely, always knowing how to display his reliable efficiency. She waited with baited breath, for a stream of mawkishness to flow out.

"I wasn't thinking straight when I said all of that to you, Bella," he confessed. "My own feelings made it necessary to jump to conclusions. I'm still doubtful about... just everything."

A long pause followed before Bella quietly responded.

"Did you believe it at the time?"

"I don't know what I believed," he answered with contrition. "You were always so... _independent_. You never needed me the way I wanted you. You had your mom. But most importantly, you had yourself."

"How do you know whether or not I _had_ myself?" she snarled, raising her voice so high that it cracked, due to its lack of use.

"That sounds like a loaded question," Edward remarked. He sighed, remembering the seriousness of their conversation. "I know that I've been a hypocrite. I expected you to tell me all your thoughts but I never told you the jealousy that fired up in me whenever Marcus stared at you. When you didn't immediately respond to my questions, I didn't know what to believe."

"I don't feel like talking about Marcus," Bella whispered. The maudlin state of their conversation brought chills down her back.

"Was that why you weren't at school? Did you not want to attend the assembly that was held?"

She wished for lucidity to grace her loud thoughts.

So, she didn't reply.

_But we break our hearts, oh, we break our hearts! for the things we must not tell._

"Even if you guys did..."- he sucked in a sharp breath of air- "did do what I've always wanted to share with you, I... want us to move forward. I never meant to hurt you in this way... to see you become a shell of your former self."

She didn't reply.

_So we go through life with a ghastly mask, and we're doing fairly well..._

"I've been visiting you. Did you know that? I can't stop thinking about the way I treated you, even when my feelings for you were still so strong, back then."

She didn't reply.

_Oh, the world would be such a kindly world if all men's hearts lay bare!_

"Please say something, Bella."

But she didn't know what to say.

_We live and share the living lie, we are doing very well..._

"I don't know what you're going through and I'm not going to pretend that I do but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. We can be friends... if that's what you want."

But she didn't know what she wanted.

_We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well..._

She didn't know what Bella Swan wanted._  
_

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_A/N: "__Were you rushing or were you dragging_?"_ I'm rushing with the posting and dragging (unintentionally) with Bella's pain because that's how the story goes. Not to mention, the depression as well. Trust me, you might start screaming at me after everything becomes clear. Let's just cruise in the unknown, for just a bit._

_Credit- **The Things We Dare Not Tell** by **Henry Lawson**_


	22. Chapter 22

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**22\. The Past**

Bella had watched the rolling scenery swivel away as they left the recreational camp. It'd ended just as quickly as it'd begun, renewing her with a jubilance that her mother had always persuaded her to chase. The following days were a vivid fusion of exploring her blossoming relationship with Edward and sharing those innocent curiosities through sleepy conversations with Ma.

Her dates with Edward were laced with beatific kisses and touches of admiration as their invisible boundaries were established and uncrossed under the respect of patience. He held her hand as they watched movies together; she held his hand when Renee had to remove a splinter from the bottom of his foot.

Edward invited Bella and her mother to his place where Carlisle and Esme- glimmering like a _Carl_ and an _Essie_\- beamed in agreement of just how beautiful Bella was. Dinner followed, painted in plates of roast chicken, mashed potatoes and peas. The smiles were endless, flowing alongside questions about present and future. The unknown seemed to be a favored topic at meetings, catalyzing open discussions that had all sorts of funny branches clawing at the sky as its bony fingers led to new pathways.

"I'm not sure yet," Bella said.

"Oh, you'll figure it out soon," Carlisle responded, smiling at her warmly. "Edward doesn't have a clue about what he wants to do, either."

Summers with her mother were usually quiet and spiritual as they dove deep into a sanctuary that helped expel the toxins of high school drama. But this summer was different to all her other ones, layered with new friends and topped with a wonderful set of grandparents. She also told Edward about her father, drawing similarities to his own words of not remembering much about his parents. But unlike him, she hadn't even gotten the chance to say hello. She had no idea what her father was like, only relying on stories that her mother would share. But she did know what her father looked like, having seen wedding photos in her mother's possession. Pictures of Charlie were often exhibited in the adjacent frames of Bella and Renee, as if miraculously, they could be visualized as a united family that still existed.

Although she never grew up with a father, she was never intimidated by the callous statements that other kids made about her having 'daddy issues'.

"Let them underestimate you," Renee had told her child. "People can say whatever they want. You just don't have to believe it if it's not going to benefit you."

She'd always explained the reality of things to her daughter, as truthfully as she could. She made it clear that there was a subtle danger to childish suppositions. People often overlooked the contradictions in their beliefs due to their determination to prove themselves right. But how much did _anyone_ know about _anyone_?

"I don't think you have daddy issues," Edward commented before taking a large bite out of his cream donut. They sat opposite each other in the booth of the diner. "Maybe because you're so self-aware. Hell, I wish you would depend on me more, to be honest. Makes a guy sorta happy. But I ain't complaining."

Bella smirked at her boyfriend, reaching over to wipe the cream off the corner of his mouth. "You're one to talk."

"Can we join you guys?"

The sudden voice startled Bella as she looked up in surprise.

Lauren smiled at her, winking playfully. Bella looked over at Rosalie who seemed to be captivated by Edward eating his donut. She noticed a third person standing by their table. Marcus stood behind the two blondes, looking rather gauche.

"Sure," Bella acquiesced. Rosalie and Marcus sat next to Edward whilst Lauren slid up to her. She raised her eyebrows in question as she looked between Bella and Edward, who was currently unashamed about stuffing his face in front of a variegated audience.

"That's his lunch," Bella explained, with a roll of her eyes. "Even though it's four already."

Rosalie tapped her chin- on a mission to extract pivotal information. "So you guys are what? Friends... with benefits or without or-"

"She's my girlfriend," donut guy replied, not sparing her a glance.

Bella couldn't help but smile even when more cream gathered on the corner of his lips.

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	23. Chapter 23

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**23\. The Present**

There was a quote by Alice Morse Earle that Renee had always said to Bella as a child- "_Every day may not be good... but there's something good in every day_." It'd applied to Bella, once upon a time, but its meaning had become bleached out by the power of chlorine as the insignificant words no longer exulted its previous vibrancy.

She didn't know who she was anymore. And it brought no comfort to her being.

People often said that identities were crafted through one's experiences with their society and the values administered from a young age. It would be understood that human beings were anonymous creatures who ought to be filled up with individual experiences. Many of those experiences didn't differ from others, hence why people were more similar than they'd like to imagine. Yet every anecdote was still able to appear unique.

There was something hopeful about believing in the essence of uniqueness. Perhaps it was the assuagement of knowing that people weren't meager copies of each other- that everyone had _something _they could be proud of. There were personality tests, surveys and social experiments to fuel these beliefs of individualism. It was a beautiful notion- the deletion of ordinariness- as it made people feel more self-assured. It was a break, one of independence, from the common crowd.

Bella had once been that little spark of confidence, glistening in a rain of self-reliance. But the world was the most unpredictable game, punishing those who thought they knew everything about themselves. The darkness usurped the logical, contaminating the light with charcoaled bruises as it allowed the mind to fester in its own decay.

Before the barricades could be built, before the buildings could be evacuated... the protagonist would become the antagonist.

Some days were good for Bella, but others weren't. But they weren't the type of _bad _that consisted of guilt-trips about her existence and the inability to find meaning in waking up. No, it was a different sort of _bad_. It was the human reminder of her inescapable past.

Bella had been washing her hands in the bathroom when she looked up, realizing that the mirror suddenly contained the cold glare of another face. She jolted back in shock, narrowing her eyes at Lauren. But the spurious fortitude in her heart failed to convince her brain. Bella's eyesight grew blurry, as if the toilet cubicles were warped and pushed away, bringing Lauren and her into the center of a boxing match.

"I thought you wouldn't be brave enough to come back to school," Lauren sneered with contempt.

"You don't know anything," Bella responded in a low voice.

"He wouldn't be fucking dead if it weren't for you. Nothing's enough for you, right?"

_I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,  
And Mourners to and fro..._

"You already had Edward. Why did you need to..."

_A Service, like a Drum...  
My Mind was going numb..._

"I fucking hate you, Bella Swan."

_And then I heard them lift a Box  
And creak across my Soul..._

Bella opened her eyes as the bathroom door slammed shut, echoing with Lauren's departure. She took a shaky breath and slid onto the ground, feeling her chest tear apart as the tyranny of pain declared its rule. It erupted from its chamber, dethroning the values that had once existed within her.

The ventilation of her heart shut down, allowing the build-up of noxious air. Her identity remained shattered against the bathroom wall, cracked into a scarred demeanor. The resurgence of her memories forbade an easy return to reality. It haunted her with a perpetual hatred that would stem across all the dark ages, before and after her mortal allowance.

With stones tied to her feet, she sank, quicker than ever.

_And I dropped down, and down..._

Until she felt herself being lifted by a magnetic force. As if someone was helping her up. Her arms were curved into a new position whilst her legs were bent so that her feet danced in the emptiness of air. She wondered if she'd plummeted so far down into the center of the earth that she'd reached a grave of weightless wanderers.

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_A/N: Credit- **I felt a Funeral, in my Brain** by **Emily Dickinson**_


	24. Chapter 24

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**24\. The Past**

The silence of _silence _came in its various modes. There was the silence of the inky sky when one was rocked to sleep by the gentleness of midnight. Then, there was the silence of relaxation after a long day of work, where a breath would be inhaled and slowly exhaled as a sigh of relief, exemplifying the completion of something extraordinary. And finally, the silence of a dead-end, whether it was in a game of checkers or during a riddle that was too hard for its participants.

The dead-end in front of Bella was the impassable group conversation.

Apart from the gum-smacking that was taking place in Rosalie's mouth, the whiskers of an exaggerated silence brushed by Bella's knee, like a family pet begging for attention. She moved uncomfortably under the weight of expectant eyes. She had no idea why Lauren thought it would be a good idea to join them.

"So how long have you two been together?" Rosalie proved herself to be the bravest one, continuing her assault in the light of curiosity. Then it hit Bella. The silence was just a momentary break for Rosalie to formulate new questions in her head.

"We've been together for nearly a month," Bella replied. She cleared her voice and casually said, "I need to go to the bathroom."

Lauren got up so that Bella could slide out of the booth. But on second thought, she decided to go with Bella, seeing how she was already standing. But Bella wasn't fooled. Lauren was an expert scavenger for secrets.

"I didn't know he was your type," she giggled, peering closely at her reflection in the mirror.

"I didn't even know _I _was his type," Bella stated with a shrug.

Suddenly, Lauren's phone rang, causing her to curse under her breath. She told Bella she'd step out because the conversation might be long to which Bella nodded nonchalantly. After finishing her business and washing her hands, Bella found herself in an empty corridor, half-expecting to see Lauren waiting there.

_She must have stepped outside of the diner, then_, Bella thought.

She was just about to carry on walking when a smooth voice interrupted her actions. "Hey Bella."

His friendly smile was the first thing she noticed. She realized he had just stepped out of the men's restroom. A look of mirth spun through his eyes, twirling with amiability.

"Hi Marcus," she said. "Long time no see."

He laughed. "I think the last time I properly hung out with you was when we were playing in a sandpit."

"I don't remember that," she murmured. "But I do remember you swinging on a tree and getting yelled at."

"Ahh, the bad memories, I see."

Bella smiled sheepishly.

She was suddenly reminded by the fact that they were standing in front of the restrooms, striking up a conversation about days of their past. Bella was about to suggest continuing this conversation back at the booth when Marcus continued talking, unfazed by their unconventional location.

"So Edward, huh?"

She couldn't detect what was in his tone but there was a composed neutrality about his words that she chose to believe in. Traces of his affable personality shone through another warm smile. But the course of their conversation was soon cut short by Edward's presence. He paused in front of them for what felt like the longest ten seconds before he was able to find the germane words- ironically opposite to what he really wanted to verbalize.

"Ready to come back?" He'd settled on a casual question for the two, even though he only stared at Bella. She quickly nodded and slid her hand through his. He didn't say much as they walked back. He didn't say much for the rest of the afternoon.

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	25. Chapter 25

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**25\. The Present**

She floated like a ghost caught between two worlds. But instead of questioning the living and the afterlife, she vacillated between feeling nothing and feeling everything at once. She wondered if it was peaceful to drift towards the light and sink into a cosmos of what followed the unavoidable. She wondered what was beyond the light and the pearly gates. She wondered where _he _was... dressed as an angel with his sins cleared or burning through the ecstasy of hell's personal pleasure.

She wondered if he'd died with guilt in his heart. Was it a guilt for what he'd done or a guilt for what he would do to save himself? It was a question that could be directed at her own troubled mind. Was she guilty for what had happened or guilty for what she'd done? The contorted alleys of her conscience made it hard to walk in a straight line, creating ripples that would unbalance her with every move she made.

She was battling against a colossal force, one that wouldn't play by rules or form compromises at the desperate pleas of mercy. She didn't know if her nightmares stemmed from the shuddering thoughts of her past or the mysterious person she was now. Her mother couldn't possibly _know_ her anymore; she was damaged to a permanent fault. Irreversible. Yet still, she was able to float into a zone where gravity became an insignificance. Bending and rolling through the sleep of her concerns, she thought about begging for an extension. She wanted more time. More time for her to be forgotten and eventually placed at the bottom of a list of priorities.

She was a burden. A burden who would only weigh down the happiness of others. The happiness of her mother...

"Bella, can you hear me?" a soft voice whispered. Bella wondered why the person sounded so worried. "Honey, you're home now. Edward carried you-"

All too soon, she felt weight being clamped onto her muscles, heartlessly throwing her out of the world she'd wanted to stay in forever. In a perplexing contradiction, as she floated higher and higher out of the bottomless chasm of her mind, more was added to her load. The heaviness grew. It was the metal armory she would need. But she didn't know if she was strong enough to wear all of it. There was a safety within the dark, effortless abyss. She understood that she couldn't be a waste of space when there was _nothing_ around her. Its promise of automatic ignorance was tantalizing.

She could just be. Be that anonymous being who traveled aimlessly through the craters of her world, combining past and present into a future deleted.

"Sweetheart, are you awake?" the voice continued. The woman sounded heartbroken. But Bella wasn't sure who this woman was.

Slowly, light seeped in through her eyelids as she returned to a world that had demolished her with a snap of its fingers. A sharp reminder of how breakable she was; she wasn't anything special. She was just the rubble that remained. She was a ghost of what was left. Her former self was trapped under the debris of the bombing. She would've been long dead.

But the sweet voice of the woman kept trying, showing Bella that she didn't believe in her death. Her gentle cooing allowed Bella to meet the familiar eyes of her mother. They shone with a love that couldn't be drawn by a quill or printed by a typewriter.

Bella started to weep.

"I don't know what I should do as a mother," Renee whispered. "I don't know what I've done wrong, sweetheart."

She pressed a kiss on her daughter's forehead before wiping away the tears. Bella sat up, finding herself immediately leaning in for a hug. The warmth that emitted from Renee made Bella's chest hurt even more. She wasn't sure if she deserved this sort of love anymore.

"I will always love you, honey," Renee whispered. "I have been trying to help you but I don't know what to do anymore. I'm at a point where I need someone else's guidance."

Bella continued to cry, finding it hard to breathe as she trembled with a sadness that couldn't be arranged into words of the spoken language.

"... We can have sessions together, if that's what you need," Renee continued. "But if you don't want me to know what's killing you inside... you can have your own one-to-ones with the psychologist.

"Although it pains me to know that there are things you can't tell me, it's essentially not about me. It never has been. It's all about you, honey. I would do _anything _for you to get better. But I'm not a professional and I don't want to ruin the progress that has already been made."

As Renee held Bella closer, imitating the way she had cradled her as a baby, she was crystallized into a stalagmite of hope, yearning to reach higher and higher for a taste of a future recovered.

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	26. Chapter 26

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**26\. The Past**

It was a bridge that she'd never crossed before- a gentle, alluring relationship. So unsurprisingly, she was in awe of the view that came with walking across the canal. Everything would have been perfect, like the raw excitement of a tourist's wonder, if it weren't for the moodiness of her traveling companion. She felt uneasy about his sharp words and choleric attitude. There had always been a politeness to him, not the quick-tempered side he was demonstrating.

"Why are you so grumpy?" she asked, one day. "What did I do?"

She saw his eyes soften almost instantly before he looked away and muttered under his breath. Initially, she thought his sulkiness would pass, like bad weather being shipped away in navy blue and soft clouds. But its constant presence prompted her to step up and be the valiant one. If he wasn't going to address it, then she would.

"Look, if you want to break up with me, it's fine," she stated, rather bluntly, as they sat on the bedroom bench in his room. The soft droning voices from the TV alleviated the palpitant tension between the two.

Edward turned his head towards her, seemingly shocked by her words. She looked at him with a confused look before she went on to explain herself.

"You're acting as if you're only seeing me because you obliged to," she argued, avoiding his questioning stare.

"Is that what you want?" he asked quietly. She watched him turn his head towards the ceiling as his lips formed a grim line.

"I thought that's what you wanted," Bella replied.

"Is it that easy for you?"

"Doing this or watching you sulk and not tell me what's wrong?"

"Breaking up!" he cried in exasperation.

She stood up, facing him directly. Her feelings had reached an irrevocable state where the dire need to be expressed made her annoyance be shown- once and for all. "I'm not the one who wants to break up. I'm trying to guess what _you_ want, based on your actions."

"It's normal to fight in relationships, Bella," he snapped. "But you don't have to call it quits, every time you're unsure about your feelings."

"Unsure?"

"I knew a month was too quick but I couldn't help it," he muttered to himself. "I-I... nevermind."

"Edward, it's not that I'm unsure about my feelings. You're the one who's becoming so distant," she reminded him sadly. "You're my first boyfriend, and the best one so far."

She saw a small smile peak through his lips in its urbane fashion. Bending down so that she could sit closer to him, Bella tentatively touched his hand. He interlaced their fingers, looking very abashed. He tenderly cupped her face and took in a deep breath.

"Bella Swan-"

The loud shout from his grandmother, reminding him that lunch was ready, cut off the confession he wanted to make. Bella kissed him on the cheek before they made their way downstairs to see what Esme had cooked. Edward swallowed the feelings that clung onto his vocal chords which were ready to make an entrance.

_Perhaps, just then hadn't been the right moment_, he told himself. But he wondered when the next time would come.

He stared at her in a way she would never understand.

He'd never met someone who was so observant and oblivious towards all the right and wrong things, forming an amalgamation of adorableness and pure cluelessness. He wondered how he could ever get these feelings across to her, driving himself to a degree of anxious doubt. His grandmother could often be hell-bent on certain things so it wasn't as if he hadn't dealt with strong-minded women before. But Bella was another story.

She seemed to exist in her own world, living a life that didn't examine the opinions of others to the point of relinquishing _herself_. Edward knew she chose to conduct herself carefully through reservation and occasional spontaneity, holding up her spirit without needing his hand. He wondered if this high school relationship was a necessary component for her to grow- after all, she had everything in control.

He'd never thought of himself as a dependent person, relishing in his nonconformity to the pressures of high school, but he still would've felt fretful at the thought of breaking up. The breaths of effortlessness that had melted around her suggestion had planted new seeds of doubt.

And just like Bella, he unwillingly wondered when their set of opposite qualities would lose its smiling opulence.

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	27. Chapter 27

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**27\. The Present**

Bella hadn't taken in much of what her mother had said, that day, but when she saw Edward walking into biology class, vague reminders of his laudable acknowledgement made her thoughts suddenly freeze. He handed Mr. Banner a neatly stapled booklet, just like the other students, before walking to his seat. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she wondered what made Renee mention his name.

"How have you been feeling?" he asked earnestly.

"Fine." A soft answer amidst the loud shuffling of books and bags.

"I hope you don't mind that I finished our group assignment," he said. "You weren't feeling so well so I didn't want to bother you over the weekend."

The rapid current of thoughts, consisting of Lauren's accusatory words and Bella retreating into her aggressive desolation, crashed into her mind as she recalled her next conscious moment to have had Renee by her side. She didn't know how she'd fought it. Her body temperature didn't seem to be able to rise- not with the frozen cage secured around the indelible scars of truth. There was an imperishable hell waiting for her; she wondered if its heat would be enough to renounce the lies that had strung up her frame.

Abruptly, her mind was injected with a new sense of understanding as she remembered the weightlessness she had been subjected to. It hadn't been her descent into an abandoned world that was painted with ashen colors, depicting the only sanctum for the expendable.

No. Edward had carried her out of the bathroom.

Bella was confused as to what made him play Virgil and Dante, cherishing the courage to seek her in hellfire. She wondered if she had been one of the souls in the Fifth Circle, by the Styx, left to rot in inevitable decay. Perhaps, she would have gurgled to her demise for being weak. _Had it been my fault? Had it?_

"Bella?" Edward asked softly. "You were about to say something."

She blinked quickly as she retraced her thoughts. The concern that shone through Edward's eyes made her avert her gaze, finding it too hard to witness the worry she never wanted anyone to feel for her. She didn't need it; she didn't deserve it.

"Thank you for finishing the assignment," she whispered.

A brief moment of silence followed before he replied, "No problem, Bella."

Mr. Banner went through another class revision on meiosis where they looked through different slides under the microscope. Edward was quiet, respecting Bella's space, as if he was coming to terms with his losses. He hadn't been patient; he had once been rash and he regretted it. He was rueful the moment he'd uttered those sharp words to her- testing her so that she could prove his worries wrong. He'd demanded the truth. But he couldn't accept the truth without falling into a crevice of open doubts. His quandary pushed away the ears that were made to listen.

"Weren't you afraid that you'd get caught in the girls' bathroom?"

Her words shocked him. But he found it hard not to smile at her undisguised curiosity. Although he didn't have the answers to everything, he knew he couldn't stop thinking about her. Nor could he stop trying. He'd replay the effervescent dreams of their past, constantly questioning what triggered the domino effect.

"I've been following you around school," he admitted sheepishly. "I wanted to make sure you were okay with getting to all of your classes. When I saw Lauren enter the bathroom, I waited. But when she'd left and you were still in there for over ten minutes, I had to go in to see what was wrong."

Bella felt defeat swarm her body as she struggled to understand why he waited to catch her every time she fell. She was a mess of demoralized wounds, requiring a treatment that would extend beyond the limits of her time. Although she knew she would continue to sink into the mud-spattered delight of the Fifth Circle, she didn't know why Edward was so willing to save her.

Her mother tried and tried, crying and suffering. But she was _Renee_; she was the love that couldn't be effaced.

But Edward was different. Simply, a boy who she'd dated, and one that she'd liked. She never expected him to shun her, cleanly cutting their blossoming relationship with a pair of scissors. Yet when she thought about the entangled web of rigmaroles and disasters, she realized there had just been one person to ruin her, all along. And the guilt would never stop, with its beginning biting onto its tail.

As she tried to swim away from the Styx, away from the wrathful souls, away from the merciless ghosts that highlighted her frailty... she knew she was only swimming to Futility.

_The calm,  
Cool face of the river  
Asked me for a kiss._

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_A/N: Credit- **Suicide's Note** by **Langston Hughes**_


	28. Chapter 28

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**28\. The Past**

Bella had mentioned the little stumble she had with Edward to her mother who responded with her usual wisdom. She'd reminded Bella that she still needed to spend time with her other friends, and not just with Edward who had conveniently gone on a three-day road trip with his grandparents. Bella didn't think Renee's idea was too bad, until she found herself listening to Lauren and Rosalie blather about the most trivial things.

"Anyway, how's everything going with Marcus?" Rosalie changed the topic.

"It's getting there," Lauren replied with a sly grin.

"Is he making all the first moves?" Rose sounded surprised as she waited for a response from her friend. Lauren giggled, not giving any more hints.

"Never expected you two as a pair," Rose remarked. As her attention drifted away from Lauren, she realized how quiet Bella was being and decided to shower her with questions that hardly deviated from the ones she'd inquired about before.

"Oh, that reminds me," Lauren interrupted, much to Bella's relief. "There's a party tonight that Marcus and I are holding. Well, technically it's at his place but he told me I can be the _co-host_."

Rose smiled. "I'm sniffing an invitation here."

Playfully rolling her eyes, Lauren turned to look at Bella. "Tell me you'll be there tonight. I need my girls with me."

Bella was used to the sporadic visits to house parties with her friends, often finding the beginning and middle parts to be rather enjoyable before people decided to imbibe so much alcohol that by the end of the night, they would be vomiting into the front bushes.

"I'll go if Bella goes," Rosalie stated, fixing up her hair through the reflection in the window.

"Bella?" Lauren's expectant eyes were fixed on Bella.

Days like today, she felt caught in the middle, stuck between lethargy and boredom. She wished the decisions would come naturally instead of her forcing one out. The thought of belonging wasn't terrible per se. It was mainly Bella's reluctance to do anything about it. _Change_ was the hard part. Yet, something in her made her want to give it a go, convinced that if she tried hard enough, she might even enjoy it. Perhaps, she did belong. But she just had too many high standards.

Returning to the dilemma in front of her, she decided to go along with it and just _live_.

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She took a few sips of vodka before deciding to find a bottle of water in the fridge. The alcohol in her bloodstream offered the right amount of relaxation- one that didn't cross into total enervation. She felt warm. She felt happy. She'd arrived with Lauren and Rosalie but they had long disappeared, most probably throwing themselves into the full swing of the party as the house echoed with the resounding booms of dubstep music.

As she sat back down on the couch, she felt another person sit beside her.

Marcus smiled at her. "Are you enjoying the party?"

Shrugging, she replied, "My stomach's feeling weird. I might go home soon."

The conversation was easygoing, creating a rhythm that contrasted the heavy flow of synergy between young teens making out and the sway of their dancing. Bella's thoughts wandered over to Edward as she pondered what had made him act in such a displeased manner. He'd left with a kiss on her forehead, telling her that he was sorry for how he'd behaved.

"It's all right, Edward," she'd replied, hugging him tightly. "Enjoy your trip."

She remembered feeling a solicitous sensation settling into her stomach when he'd looked at her. A mesmeric timidness sparkled in his eyes. The time away from Edward offered her some space to regather her thoughts but there was still a big part of her that missed him- his humor... and even his sulky behavior.

"Where's Edward?" Marcus asked. He took a sip of his drink as the lights of the party created dancing shadows across his face.

"He's hanging out with his grandparents," she replied. "He'll be back soon."

They sat side by side for a few more minutes before Bella heard her stomach grumble.

"Anyway, I think I'm going to go now," she stated. Looking at the time on her cell phone, she decided it wasn't too late to make her way back home, by herself- not wanting to disturb Lauren or Rosalie. Renee was currently at a wedding reception, capturing the usual set of marvelous photos. Bella rubbed her stomach. "I'm just going to the bus stop."

"I'll walk you there," Marcus said politely. "It's nearly eleven now."

"But this is your place-"

"I want to be a good host," he said positively. "Plus, Lauren can handle it on her own."

Bella accepted his offer. As they walked out of his house and into the lambency of the moonlight, she wondered if the luminous glow would light her way back home.

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	29. Chapter 29

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**29\. The Present**

Bella didn't remember her soft footsteps out of bed or the conduit she'd floated along to land in this office. The woman stared at her with a warm smile as she wrote on her notepad. She was Tamara Lancaster, a psychologist who had helped one of Renee's clients before. Renee sat next to Bella, keeping an arm wrapped around her daughter.

"How's school, Bella?" Tamara asked.

"School's just school," she replied quietly.

Bella felt no need to explain any further as she was intoxicated by the bone-tired turmoil in her soul, bereft of any hopes for recovery. As she looked around Tamara's office, she was confronted with the eagerness of her mother's efforts to heal her. She was a small caravel trapped in the Roaring Forties, bowing down to the westerly winds as it guided her on a forced path. The beguiling nature of seeking help was to obtain the hopeful results wanted, but she was already a lost cause. There would be no results. Only the disqualification of happiness for everyone. For Renee.

"Your mother has told me that you haven't felt like yourself for quite some time," Tamara stated. "So what have you been doing lately?"

Bella's pessimism was convinced that this treatment would be inefficacious. But as her eyes darted to look at Renee, she felt a tremble of guilt sinking into her stomach- once again- knowing that her mother was doing all she could. However, every time she tried to run away from depression's sharp claws, she was dragged back with ten times the pain. She wondered if endeavor was worth it in the end. Would the words, '_I tried_', make everyone feel better? Or would the obscurity of her darkness be for the better.

"Nothing much," Bella answered.

"_Bella_," her mother whispered. "Please try."

Her mind danced like an acrobat on a trapeze as she spun through the resplendent lights shining from the crown of the circus. But somewhere in her psyche, a deep frustration became pronounced as it threatened to unbalance the artist in her august performance. Vexation simmered through Bella's body as the weight of expectations flung her around without any form of preparation. This wasn't in the rehearsals- nothing had been planned. It was a disaster. An accident.

The crowds, the stares, the vocalized reactions. She didn't know if she would fly or fall. She was merely a rag doll- controlled and contorted by fiendish spirits. How could she let herself go in front of eyes who hadn't seen where she'd been? If she couldn't handle it... she would lose her grip and drop through the layers of thickened air, gravid with satisfaction, as she plunged to rock bottom.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't keep falling. The pain was enough already. Why did they want her to repeat everything? She _wouldn't_.

"I _am _trying," she hissed at Renee.

The regret was sudden when she saw the hurt in her mother's eyes. But through the dismal veil of helplessness, she was numbed by the overwhelming sensations in her body. The ravaging pain spread across the maps of her veins, burning her atlas of directions and positions until she was simply a miniature dot in the observable universe.

She was an anomaly that couldn't be saved, an anonymity that couldn't be traced.

She'd lost her existence from mistakes that hadn't been in her control, yet they taunted her nonetheless. Compressed into a pulp of tormented sorrows, she wanted to slide into the wooden box that would be buried under the soil. There she'd reside quietly and safely, knowing that tomorrow depended on the amount of oxygen she'd save.

A sudden paroxysm of tears gushed down Bella's cheeks as she thought about the morbid scenes that had flown through her mind. She couldn't do that to her mother. She couldn't do it to the only person who cared for her... who nurtured her when she was young and would love her until forever's sunset became a sunrise once more. It had always been the two of them- a family that had been cut short by a death too early. If she left this world, in the cowardice of her own terrors, she'd leave her mother all by herself.

But what good would it do if she was still like this in ten years' time?

_... A burden_.

Standing up and walking away from the tearful gaze of her mother, Bella felt her feet moving faster and faster until she'd run out of the office and back into the dolor of her ruins.

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	30. Chapter 30

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**30\. The Past**

She didn't notice the air becoming contaminated with an odor until the scent had already entered her nostrils and driven a track of goosebumps across her flesh. Looking around the neighborhood, she was met with the eerie echoes of midnight's silence as Marcus guided her to the bus stop.

"You're a really beautiful girl, Bella," Marcus muttered quietly. "Confident, charming... _undaunted_."

An instinctive unease somersaulted in her stomach as her eyes narrowed on the ground in front of her, finding his statement to be a very perplexing remark. She gave him a smile in response before choosing to change the subject.

"How are you and Lauren?" she asked.

Marcus shrugged carelessly before swinging his arm over Bella's shoulder. A lopsided grin pulled across his lips before he leaned in closer. She was twirled around in a vertiginous motion, until her back was pressed against the brick walls of a small alleyway and he was cupping her cheek with a look of determination. The rising panic thundered in her chest; her rib cage was pressed against the full force of her escalating anxiety.

Bella heard him take in a slow breath: "_C'mon, Marcus..._"

But before she could say anything else, his lips were pressed against hers, coercing them to follow through with his mission. She could feel one hand gripping her waist and the other crawling up to touch her breast. The taste of alcohol burnt from his tongue to hers, spreading an untamed bushfire across her soul. With every move, she realized the hopelessness in her situation.

"Stop-"

Muted once again by the silence of domination, she knew she would sink into the aphotic zone of a lightless world- left to plummet, left to drown. Hives spread across her body as she wondered if this was the end that she deserved in the bounds of her human life. With the opening of a zip, the tug of a skirt, she knew time would be at its slowest and fastest, delivering her into a nebulous limbo.

She was pushed into her own underworld where she writhed in a grief that was unfathomable. Unlike a patient etherized upon a table, she would suffer the torture of an operation without anesthesia. Adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream, yelling at her to make a decision. To run, to run, to run.

_To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"_

A push was made, but she was pushed back even harder until she toppled onto the ground, hoping for the concrete to swallow her whole. It would be better than _this_. A torture that would carve the ugliest of words into the soft flesh of her body. She was ensanguining the ground in pools of red pity, in cries of surrender, in a silence of submission. Stitches wouldn't be able to mend her ripped wings as countless feathers fluttered across her face, bringing the night's reality closer to her attention.

_When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall..._

She wondered if pain had always felt so numb. Would the blood trickle down endlessly until she was painted in a red coat of bleeding fright. Would she look like the body of a finished crime scene? Or would she carry on, keeping the truth lodged in her throat. She wondered if it was normal to feel so much tedium. Perhaps, it was the aftermath of a failed fight.

She wasn't able to breathe, for she had swallowed another gulp of salty water before being pulled down into the lair of a sea monster. The dizzy aqua flooded her eyes as bubbles abraded her skin, making her cry in an agony that resulted from her continual suffocation. She held her throat, begging for mercy whilst she sank... deeper and deeper. But the most excruciating part was her _consciousness_. She was aware that she was drowning from the outside and burning from the inside.

_And in short, I was afraid._

Slowly, she heard a gentle voice calling. The softest whispers of courage were poured into her ears- a reminder that everything would be over soon.

"Stay with me, Bella," came the voice of her mother. "You are a strong girl. Stay... don't leave."

Bella cried as she felt her mind being saved whilst her body was left to rot. Maimed beyond resurrection. Filled with a sense of dirtiness. Frozen in her state of dread. The once concentrated potion of her confidence was gradually diluted with confusion, embarrassment and disorientation with every sting.

He pulled away quickly as he grunted, concluding the barbarous display of power. As she bled into the remnants of blasphemy, she realized that the pain would never end. It'd stay with her, diminishing her strength with every subsequent breath. She would never fully awaken from such a profane act; she was a trapped soul, entering a realm of concealed lies. Words couldn't express; people wouldn't understand.

She thought he mumbled something. But everything was soundless. The ringing in her ears didn't stop.

_Till human voices wake us, and we drown._

The putrefaction of innocence lied in her remains.

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_A/N: I am in __**NO WAY**_ _glamorizing such a disgusting act. Only imitating the frenzy of a character's thoughts through unrelated literature because... we all know how complex our feelings can be, hence the need for powerful words. _

_Credit- **The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock** by **T. S. Eliot**_


	31. Chapter 31

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**31\. The Present**

She could hear the distant protest from her mother but her legs were being controlled by an ominous force, pulling her along like a puppet gliding across a miniature stage set. Her jaw would open and close, obediently miming to the words of a song. But _her_ voice was gone, encapsulated in the plastic construction of a wooden doll. She felt cold sweat rolling down her body as she ran towards her hiding.

"Wait! Bella!" Renee's hand clutched onto Bella's elbow.

"I can't do it, Ma!" Bella yelled. "You want me to get over myself so that you can feel better about being a good mom. Well, guess what? I can't pull myself out of all this. It's too hard and you don't understand."

"I am trying to do my best," Renee pleaded. "You've given me no choice but to seek professional help-"

"You never gave me a _choice_!"

Renee quietened, watching her daughter crumble under the stones she'd piled on top of her delicate form. In Renee's eyes, she would always be the five year old who baked cookies with her Ma. She would always be the angel who ran upstairs to finish her homework before watching TV whilst licking popsicles that turned her into a blue-tongue lizard. She would always be her daughter, her most precious treasure.

It hurt her, when Bella lashed out at her like that. Renee felt the wind against her face as she plummeted from the cliff edge, splashing into the water with an ungraceful fall. How could she heal her daughter when she was struggling with her own emotions? Every day, she became more irresolute with her decisions- wondering if she was doing all that she could as a parent. This time, Bella spelled it out for her. Was she more concerned about her own feelings or her daughter's? Of course, it was her daughter's. Of course, it was. She successfully convinced herself, standing her ground.

"I've been patient, Bella," Renee explained. "But it hurts me, _so much_, to see you like this. It's not weak to ask for help, honey. It's not weak to tell people what's wrong."

"Every situation is different," Bella responded, throwing back the words her mother had once used.

"Tell me what's wrong." Renee shakily wiped away her tears. "_Please_. Trust me. You used to trust me."

Bella looked away from her mother's red-rimmed eyes, filled with enough sadness to bring her down to her knees. How could she tell _anyone _what had happened... what she'd done? She had been rage. She had been anger. She had been ready to destroy the fire-breathing monster with a slash of her blunt sword. The argent canvas of the moon had been dipped in the blood of another. Did it make her feel any better? Did she feel better now? To layer the dried stains in another fresh coat of maroon.

The repercussions followed her like a trail of drumming noises. Its players, invisible. But the sounds, inescapable.

The convoluted maze of her reality would never mollify the curse of her past. She'd never find her way out of its impregnable design. She'd never find the future she had dreamed about for years. They were goals that had been reachable, a year ago, two years ago... but not today, not anymore. She was sharply reminded by how much _purity _had been lost; the durability of her inexorable confusion would not diminish. It would chase her into the deepest dungeons of the darkest catacombs.

"Trust me, honey." The faintest whisper of Renee's voice pulled her to a light that had once soothed her during a lifeless night.

While she cowered, under the bed, from the shadows of her mind's deadliest creations, her mother bravely fought a blind battle in daily attempts to recover her lost daughter. While she resigned to her inevitable destruction, her mother waited for her return- day and night- knowing that her love for her child was an immutable truth.

"I'll always be here... until I'm battered by old age. I'll be here for as long as possible because I love you _so_, _so _much. You're all that I have," Renee croaked. "You always have a choice, sweetheart. _Everyone _has a choice. I can't take that away from you. I'll be here, when you need to find me again."

As a young child, Bella had always struggled with her indecisiveness. She often found herself on the fence, weighing her options until she'd lose her balance and simply fall off one side or the other. She was always careful about her choices, being sure to act with as much honesty as she could. But now... this choice that her mother was giving her, it was a question about _her_. It slid beyond the epidermis and into core of her problems, asking her if she wanted to make a _change_.

But some questions were too hard to answer.

They could only be met with the safety of silence.

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	32. Chapter 32

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**32\. The Past**

The caliginous storm clouds hovered over her as she stumbled through the front door. She wasn't sure how she arrived back home. She couldn't remember the way she dusted her skirt and stood up, not before collapsing a couple of times. She couldn't remember the bus ride and her empty stare out of the window. Her eyes were glassy with witnessed secrets that rattled in their metal cage.

After silently walking up the stairs, she turned on the shower and watched the steam invade her vision. She hugged herself under the water as she allowed the liquid to carry away the first layer of dirt inscribed on her skin. She scrubbed herself, until she was filled with a different type of pain. The cleansing of oneself- the raw kind. She wondered if she needed to turn herself inside out to be _completely _untainted. But it wasn't only her body that was polluted. It was her mind.

Strength remained stuck on its immovable axis as questions smirked at her with wicked pride.

"Why? Why? Why?"

"Why did it have to be me?"

She'd heard stories about the most unexpected men doing the most unexpected things. Attention was often placed on strangers. Friends and acquaintances seemed to be out of the question. Yet, here she was, in the irreversible state of her worst nightmare. The news had always seemed so far away. Nothing really mattered to a person until it was blood splattered on their own doorstep. So now, it was her turn. Would she wipe away the blood or inform someone about it?

"Why?"

She had her mother. She had her boyfriend. She had friends who would believe her. So why was she doubting herself? She should have jumped to the most obvious conclusion- the one that they always taught at school. Scream, yell, tell someone about it. But everything was so much easier when read through textbooks and uttered in classrooms. Real life offered no chances of a redo. Perhaps, it would be safe to remain quiet. If she didn't tell anyone, her cries would only reverberate against the empty chasm of her own heart. If she let it out, she would never be able to take it back.

"But why?"

"What did I do to deserve this?"

She always behaved herself. So why did the spotlight have to land on top of her? What made her deserve the pain of a lifetime? She couldn't tell... no, everyone would ask her to repeat what she'd remembered. They'd denigrate her, scrutinize the patterns on her body and the evidence she had left. She tried to blur everything out, wishing to disintegrate her memory into small pieces of rubble that would fall into a bottomless vortex. Forgotten. Nonexistent. She wanted to dress in ignorance and fly to a safe corner of nescience.

She could be strong... but not that strong. Why was _she_ given this test?

As she allowed the water to cascade down her naked back- her spine protruding to mimic the ridges of her broken landscape- she sank into the depths of her memories. She remembered a time when her strength wasn't questioned- a time when challenges weren't really challenges but just childish games that she'd play with her mother.

"Will we always be best friends?" Bella had asked Renee, twirling her fingers around her mother's blonde hair.

"Of course, sweetheart," she'd replied. "Why do you ask?"

"What if I've done something bad? Or something bad happens to me? Will you still be there for me?"

Renee had looked into Bella's eyes seriously. "I am your mother; I will _always _love you, no matter what. We are a family. And families support each other no matter how bad the situation."

"Do you promise?" Bella had stuck out her pinky finger, waiting for her mother's response.

"I promise, honey."

Bella had smiled at their interlinked pinkies before kissing her mother on the cheek.

There was always something sacred about the naive dreams of children, who floated on whimsical clouds that existed above the cruelty of the world below. Bella never wanted to be changed; she wanted to _grow_. And learn. Not be stolen and destroyed. She used to be uncharted territory, environed by the wonders of nature's serenity, until she was marked by man. Covered in dirt and devastation.

She wondered how she'd find her way again, for her identity had been reshaped into the silent victim of a heinous act.

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	33. Chapter 33

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**33\. The Present**

School was a tedious struggle for Bella. But on the days that she did manage to get out of bed, she felt a little healthier than the days when she couldn't push away her inner tenebrosity. However, there was a constant presence beside her that never went away, nearly always and most unfortunately, trying to cheer her up.

She found it hard to argue with Edward so instead, she ignored him. It hardly seemed like a gesture that bothered him. He spoke to her softly, treating her with the kindness he'd always shown her, right before everything sank into the crevices of hell. Following her around the school grounds, he no longer made it a secret. Bella could only wonder what sort of gossip was piling up due to the unclear distance they kept.

"Why are you acting like this?" she asked suddenly, as they sat in the cafeteria. "I don't get what changed a resentful Edward into a guy who's stalking me around school."

"I... grew up," he replied.

"What? Within a few months?" she scoffed.

Edward smiled to himself, feeling a sense of pride wash over his efforts. The feisty Bella was making a long-awaited appearance. He touched the apple on his tray before taking a large bite. Bella waited for his crunching to stop but it never did. It only got louder and louder until Bella realized he'd been leaning in closer.

She flinched at the sudden proximity, hoping he didn't notice her reaction. He frowned, wondering what he'd done to shock her in such a way.

"We all grow at different rates," he murmured. "I'm learning the art of being empathetic."

"By annoying me at school," she said, her tone uninflected.

"It's better than me showing up at your house, every day, right?" he asked.

"Aren't I making you tired?" she said sarcastically. "Glum... fed up?"

She looked down at her hands as she recalled the words he'd uttered once, laced with venom. She wondered how badly she'd hurt him. But the chances of him ever understanding what she'd wandered through was close to zilch. But with that being said, she realized she never gave him a chance. She'd become an expert at bottling everything up that she failed to consider his feelings.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he answered. She could hear the despondency in his voice. "It was in the moment and... I got confused by my feelings. You cast me aside like I didn't matter. You never gave me a choice... a chance to help you."

Bella looked up suddenly, an unreadable expression spreading across her features.

Everybody deserved a choice. She had hers ripped away but that didn't give her the authority to prohibit other people from having a chance. He'd been so persistent lately and she didn't know how to deal with his actions. She knew it would have hurt him- the way she'd shut him out, just like what she was doing to her own mother, but they didn't have to run. They didn't have to leap from one mountain to another, careful not to fall into the valley below. They didn't have to hide or be ashamed. They were free. But also trapped in mysteries. Because of _her_. She contemplated the possible alterations in her reality if she'd given them a chance. Could she stop running? For good.

But her decisions had fashioned into the causticity of her own nightmares. Allowing herself to admit to what had happened was too difficult. It was _her _choice to break open the lock of silence. He didn't get to lecture her about giving him chances when he was the one who gave up on them. He hadn't known what to do when she fell into her well of depression, so he ran.

Yet she couldn't blame him. If things were different, maybe she would have run too. She would have sprinted away from that night. She would have struggled until she escaped. She would have done many things differently. But she hadn't been strong. She _still _wasn't strong.

Bella glared at Edward as she spoke. "It's my choice whether I want to confide in you or not. You don't get to say all this when you don't-"

"I loved you," he whispered. "I know it's your choice, Bella. I just wanted to let you know that I would've helped. I'm trying right now, aren't I?"

It had been so long since she'd last heard those words- _I _and _you _with _loved _in between. The last time he'd stated it, it was expectorated with derision. The sharpness of those gentle words was meant to hurt her, parodying the way she'd burnt him.

She wanted to scream and be open. She wanted the truth to flow out. She wanted to be free like the birds she'd greet every day at summer camp but she couldn't, not when her wings were shredded. With a strident cry as she fell into the chaos of her uncertainties, Bella wondered if she'd ever regain the voice that she used when she'd laugh.

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	34. Chapter 34

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**34\. The Past**

Renee hadn't thought of much when her daughter told her she was coming down with a cold. Bella had blamed the subtle shift in temperature as to making her feel poorly. But slowly, a few days morphed into a few weeks. She didn't seem to be getting better- only quieter. The intervals between Renee's projects grew shorter as the summer weddings rolled in constantly, with chains of receptions and tired feet. She left Bella alone, inadvertently allowing her to play in the darkest room of her distress.

Edward had called her a couple of times but she'd brushed him away, groaning the same excuse she'd use on her mother. She wondered how long he'd loiter, waiting for her to crawl out of her burrow and allow the normal momentum to carry her forward.

But what did _normal_ even mean, anymore? Was she still _normal_?

She shrunk into a net of seclusion, coiling under a bed canopy that had once been filled with the lights of vibrant fireflies. They'd fluttered in her chest, making her eyes shine like the twinkling gold of apple juice under the sun. But now they were dimmed with monstrosities. They chased her into the caverns of incomprehension as she struggled to find an emergency opening out of her sleep. Before, there had been light. Now, she needed to fight to see it.

She retreated into a foolish shyness that provided protection from the outside world. It delivered an illusion of safety, even though she knew such a thing had been breached and would never be reclaimed. She ignored phone calls and texts as she waited for him to give up- the sooner, the better. She didn't know if her actions belonged in the category of _selfish_ or if they were justified- classified as attempts to save what was left of her.

Bella realized that one day the power would cut off- suddenly and brutally. She waited for the electricity to disappear in her underworld refuge. What would she do then? Would she keep on running? Aimlessly traveling through tunnels infested with vermin. She wondered if she would become an identity erased and forgotten. Would time weather away her existence? Stripping her like unwanted paint off a wall to be refurbished.

_The sickness rolled through me in great waves._

Maybe, it was _that_ easy to corrode into fragments of insignificance. She wondered if oxalic acid would be powerful enough to remove the rust that had gathered across her skin, eating her alive with the disorientation that followed. The sky would fall and the ground would rise, epitomizing her into a pressed-leaf butterfly that used to have a name. She would be incarcerated in her glass cage of silence, framed in the glory of her own extinction.

_After each wave it would fade away and leave me limp as a wet leaf and shivering all over and then I would feel it rising up in me again..._

The nausea grew worse, leaving her body to decay for the vultures. Her transition occurred so rapidly yet so slowly. It was as if she was there for one minute and then she was gone- a presence that continuously lingered but was never fully present in the first place. She was a book of quandary. Enigmatic questions wrapped around the skin she couldn't escape. She wanted to rip it all off. She wanted to shed her coat, but then she'd be naked bones clutching onto punctured flesh. She wasn't a winner in this life. She would lose- every try, every turn. Nevertheless, tumultuous screams assaulted her ears, demanding her to step up and answer. _Who am I? What can I do?_

The twin in her mirror glared at her. It hissed- _Nothing_. The creature's eyes were a fearless ebony, most likely the polar opposite of Bella. Brown hair framed her cadaverous face. Gaunt features stared back at her. Yet there was defeat everywhere. The smile lines had long disappeared; the confidence was washed away with the outgoing tide.

She imagined the mirror smashing onto the floor, sprinkling her feet with daggers of her former self as her face remained frozen in its expression of despair whilst jagged lines ran across dirt-stained skin.

Day after day, empty gazes met the screen of her cell phone. Every time she'd begin to type, lethargy would take over her mind and walk her back to bed. Her efforts would be ejected and placed in its case until the next occasion called for a rewind and a replay. Its outcome... negative. But hope for a different outcome- hope for a positive renewal- was hope misguided. It'd never happen until the fire was extinguished and her corpse was laid to rest, in a nest of flowers and in the surroundings of its once undisturbed nature.

_... The glittering white torture chamber tiles under my feet and over my head and all four sides closed in and squeezed me to pieces._

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_A/N: Credit- **The Bell Jar** by **Sylvia Plath**_


	35. Chapter 35

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**35\. The Present**

It was difficult admitting to the revelation, but the feeling was steadfast as it waited for her oblivion to fade away. She wondered if it would've been such a big deal if their pasts hadn't ended on an accidental collision course. The truth was she didn't find Edward's presence to be completely unbearable. However, she did take several steps back when she'd see a familiar hope enkindling in his eyes. She didn't want to lead him on, knowing she couldn't reassemble the broken pieces of old times.

Sometimes, words felt overrated. So they chose silence instead. She never spoke more than she had to, preferring to doodle in her notebook while Edward watched with a spaced-out look. He accepted her quietness, falling into the tune of their shared taciturnity. It was in the gradual process of wasted days that she realized how hard he was trying.

It wasn't exactly beneficial for the guilt that she'd cloaked over herself, knowing that others were trying while she was only clinging on. But it was also the sense of dissatisfaction as she watched his perseverance prove to be much stronger than hers, evoking suspicion on her behalf. She couldn't understand what he was getting out of this little chase. Even for a relationship rookie, she knew break-ups weren't easy to get over. So how was he so good at pretending? Why was he pretending that he could tolerate her again?

"What do you want from me?" she asked, one day. She waited for his charade to break, revealing his pent-up anger towards her. But that never came.

"I want you to get better," he murmured. "I don't have any ill intentions."

She shook her head- just the slightest- but he noticed.

"You don't believe me," he stated sadly. "I hope you realize that I never tried to be the bad guy in any of this. I was just a boy in love."

She wanted to tell him that he had never been the bad guy. He was mistaken if he thought he'd harmed her in any other way. The knife was already lodged in her stomach before he'd pushed it in a little further. He believed what he wanted to; he believed what had seemed obvious.

He'd been confusion dressed as hurt.

"I never blamed you for his death," he whispered, looking into her eyes with regret. "Nobody should be held accountable for that... especially not you. I was just-"

He sucked in a deep breath before holding his head in his hands, racked with sadness.

"I was egotistical. When you didn't give me the attention that you used to, I thought you liked another guy," he confessed. "You should hate me right now for the lack of trust I had in you. But I could be _so _jealous, even when you were my girlfriend."

Edward waited for Bella to say something. But she didn't.

"I should've let you explain. I should've been more empathetic towards you when you sank into depression," he muttered ruefully. "I always had my doubts but my pride... my pride-"

"I never cheated on you," she stated, out of the blue.

She felt a droplet of bravery land on her forehead, branding her with a feathery touch of strength. She didn't know what made her utter such a firm declaration but it flew out, soaring into the open air. A soft clinking from the interior of a lock could be heard as she felt something move within her. The door of silence slowly creaked open, just an inch. But an inch was enough for her to peek outside.

Edward looked at Bella, a pained expression etched on his face.

"I'm sorry I never gave you a chance," he said timidly. "I've come to realize that... it was me who never gave you a choice. I always made the decisions for us. You didn't even get to explain."

She nodded her head, freeing him from regret. An understanding settled into the depths of Edward's mind as he embraced the closure. He wondered if they would ever be themselves again. The Bella and Edward who enjoyed themselves at summer camp, under the heat of a blazing sun and floating in a kayak down the river. As he analyzed the tired marks under Bella's eyes and the paleness of her skin, he knew that times had changed. He felt maturity brush across his hair. It hadn't been much of a growth spurt but it did mean something. He would always respect her and the choices that she made.

As they relaxed in a silence that wasn't quite filled with midnight's sleepiness, relaxation after a long day or the awkwardness of a dead-end, Bella realized it was a silence she had taken for granted. Its need to be appreciated was urgent... yet humble. It was a _different _kind of silence. It was a silence suffused with the faintest aroma of acceptance.

_"You always have a choice, sweetheart. Everyone has a choice. I can't take that away from you. I'll be here, when you need to find me again."_

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	36. Chapter 36

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**36\. The Past**

"Honey, are you all right?" Renee asked, brushing her daughter's hair. "Something you'd like to talk about?"

Bella's lips remained sealed, even when she felt the force of the universe pushing against her flesh, protesting from the inside and yearning for the need to be heard. She shrouded her troubles as she wondered to herself- _when did I start keeping things from Renee? _Although, her mind screamed at her with appropriate justifications, she started to question the fallacy of her heart.

Whether it was through the whims of coincidence or the never-ending insanity she was driven towards, Something ticked in her. Perhaps, it was the effect of her mother's gentle touch on her scalp or the soothing love that had cocooned her entire existence. She wanted to stand- just for herself. She didn't want other people's leery glances or her own insufficiency obstructing her view.

"Have you ever been in a dead-end?" Bella asked. "A situation that you can't run away from."

Renee's hands stopped moving as she processed her daughter's words. It was a generic question but the exigency for a solution glowed bright red. She wondered if Bella would expand on her conundrum. However, that thought was proved wrong when her daughter reverted to her deafening silence as minutes ate them up.

"Every situation is different," Renee replied. "But there's always a way to beat the problem, sweetheart. You just have to search hard enough."

"What do you mean?" Bella whispered. There was nothing left for her to search. She couldn't afford the expense of a new oxygen tank when it was of certainty that she would only waste it... drowning and drowning after conducting full retrospects of the events from that night. There was no way out for her. It was contagious thoughts on repeat.

"Well, firstly, you shouldn't panic. Try to remain calm," Renee explained softly.

The firmness in her voice could not be converted into equivalent units to measure Bella's despair. Silence was the raw panic she couldn't escape from. It was the internal suffering she'd been condemned to, infinitely. So she thought to herself. _Is it too late to remain calm? Has the panic completely devoured me?_

"Then, you analyze the problem and figure out what can be changed and what can't be," Renee said. "Maybe, it's your attitude. Maybe, it's your tactic."

Bella's attitude had been transformed into the remnants of a battlefield, filled with the putrid smell of disease. They ate away at the rotting flesh of her brain whilst regurgitating the most unwanted segments. Irrationality was weighing out, discarding her tactics into a dying field of poppies. Its cerise petals would bear a lifelong scar of red ink.

"You stay strong... and confront the problem."

_Confront _

_The _

_Problem _

In her deadly vault, where a stifled anger began to flourish, she knew escape was futility's right-hand man. But perhaps, she could do something to save others from the same death of happiness. Perhaps... she could still try to save herself- one last time. She would leave her fate to rest in the time-stopping motion of a coin flip. She was the sacrificial lamb attempting her last chance of redemption.

The sensibleness that had once been engraved in Bella Swan denatured in the heat of her mind, crumbling into smithereens of desperation. The mountainous devastation stood before her, declining her the chance to consult reason. She didn't have much left. Only the residue of bravery that her mother had given her as a young girl. She was told to treasure her strength- for when the time would come, she would know what to do.

In the traumatic aftermath of her ordeal, the fuliginous fog didn't lift, refusing to shed light on the dangers of her thoughts. Drowned in the stupor of her thriving depression, she made a choice for herself. It was flawed... it was unblemished. She made a choice for bravery. She made a choice for the _victim_.

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	37. Chapter 37

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**37\. The Present**

Renee had lost count.

She didn't know how many times she'd snuck into Bella's room to check that her child was breathing. The involuntary tears that would blur her vision came at irregular intervals, forcing her to run out when the sobs of her anguish couldn't be muffled behind cupped palms. The only antidote to a mother's pain was to look through the family albums, slowly realizing that she had carved goodness amidst the smoky depression.

Renee had done what she could. But now, it was up to her daughter to make the choice. She knew she needed to give Bella time. So she waited patiently for the first words to come out. A memory was triggered- Bella uttering her first baby words.

"Ma... ma," she'd giggled happily. It'd made Renee cry and laugh at the same time.

Those words had seemed easy. She wondered if it would be the same case, this time.

As she glared at the darkness that engulfed her daughter, she was reminded of the struggles throughout her own childhood. Her parents didn't care about her thoughts, her education, her individuality. They didn't ask how her day was or who she played with at school. They nursed their bottles, as if alcohol was the daughter they'd brought into this world. The household wasn't familiar with silence, unless it was the drunken type. The weight of abandonment often subdued Renee until she realized that the pain would never go away.

Screams and insults were constantly thrown at her. Her mother would grab her roughly, ordering her around while her father made bitter remarks about the incompetency of their daughter- often comparing her to the imaginary son he wished he had.

Renee contemplated the influence of her own childhood on her motherhood. Had the negligence of her parents propelled her to hover over Bella? Until it became so suffocating for her daughter that she'd broken away without so much as a backward glance.

_"Why is everything about you, Renee? You selfish, little brat."_

She was the mother that her mother could never be. Renee shook her head forcefully. She wasn't _selfish_ when she thought about her daughter. She wasn't _selfish_ when she thought about her own feelings. She addressed things- something Patricia couldn't bear to endure.

Renee's vehement attempts of reassurance continued against the strong waves of her emotional struggle.

_"You think I'm a bad mother? Wait until you have kids and then you'll see how crazy you'll become."_

Renee knew she hadn't inherited anything else, beyond the rules of genetics, from her mother. There was not a mutual thought, not a shared trait. Even though Patricia hadn't loved her daughter the way a mother should, Renee had internalized her past and channeled her feelings through an unfaltering determination to be the best mother she could possibly be, for _her_ child.

She wanted to be a friend, a sister, a mother. She didn't want vast terrains to separate her child's feelings from hers. She would love her baby, no matter what. The absence of support and love in her own upbringing would never be repeated for Bella. The sharp awareness of her mother's careless errors made Renee meticulous.

People often said that being a mother was like having a job- a job that lasted a lifetime, and its reward... priceless. Renee had never pictured herself as a mother for the longest time, having witnessed the failure of one at such a young age. But after she married, knowing that love encompassed so much more, she realized that the past didn't dictate the future. The present did.

Her identity wasn't sojourned in the lingering memories of her past. It was what she made of herself, allowing her contemporary values to craft a person who she was proud of, despite the struggles of years gone by. She realized that she identified herself as a mother- a loving, caring mother who would do anything for her child. She had once been a child with big dreams, stuck in a place where hope was scarce. Yet something made her legs run and her spirit fly, pushing her to be a better person in a disagreeable world.

By running away, she'd embarked on a chapter dedicated to acceptance. She made a choice to search for who she was. A choice that revitalized her identity. And it was a choice she knew she would never regret.

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	38. Chapter 38

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**38\. The Past**

Her loss of touch with reality was frightening. It numbed her ability to make decisions that were fully developed to encompass all possibilities. Bella couldn't see what she was doing- she didn't know if it was right or wrong. But the false certainty that was evoked prompted her to wear the armory of courage.

She could've let the events float by, pretending that none of it happened. But she wasn't going to be sedated into submission, anymore. She couldn't allow _him_ to control her life. She didn't want to see his face behind the veil of cursed dreams. She wanted the abominable ferocity of his cruelty to perish in the flames that she'd ignite, burning away the parts that had left her weakened.

She was a strong woman. And in the safety of broad daylight, she knew she wouldn't be hurt. What more could he do when he'd already burnt her at the stake, callously destroying an innocence that was never permitted to prosper. At the same time, she couldn't see the flaws of her diseased mind, encouraging her to pursue something so dangerous. She was blinded by an anger and a sadness that could topple the highest building from its concrete foundations.

She was wrath, yearning for a last confrontation.

The journey to hell didn't take long. But she'd been blindfolded the entire way, having troubles recalling the movement of her footsteps as she walked up to his front door. She held her cell phone by her side, knowing that with a click on the screen, help would arrive. But would it arrive quickly enough? Yet again, the blistering impulse of her decision made no sense except to Bella, herself.

Her eyes were illuminated with defiance, no longer caving into her chagrin. In that moment, consequences didn't matter. Her future was already buried under her tombstone, located in a land of weeping souls. She needed to do this for herself. It would be her denouement, her final stand. It would be the last chance for hope to uncover a beckoning strength.

"Lauren, you're early-"

Bella heard Marcus' words before he opened the door. His fleeting shock did not go unnoticed. She smirked at him in an uncharacteristic, perfervid way, distancing herself from the meekness she'd shown before. The copious amounts of determination thundered in her brain, blocking out rationality. She felt drunk on adrenaline. She felt controlled. Mind-controlled at the insistence of her subconsciousness. But she had nothing to lose. After all, she had already hit rock bottom.

"Why?" she demanded quietly.

He looked at her blankly, showing off his brilliant acting skills. "Why what?"

"You know what you did," she hissed. She realized that the words she searched for were not coming up. Her throat burned as her mind tried to admit to what had happened, that night. As he hid behind insouciance, she found herself sinking into more and more anger- partially at herself, as well. But before she could say anything else, he cut her off.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bella," he stated.

"Do you think the police will believe me or you?" she blurted, surprising herself.

She hadn't planned to threaten him. Spontaneity took over the reins, steering her in a direction of justice. She felt guilty, finding it hard to understand why she couldn't tell her mother what had happened yet she was brave enough to threaten the man who had destroyed her. But what they both didn't know was just how scared she was. Scared and confused. Was she ready to crush him under the strength of Lady Justice?

"You wouldn't," he said lowly. She wondered if he'd caught her bluff. She wondered if he could sense her fright. "You wouldn't dare."

She wondered if he felt _guilty_, at all.

"So you're admitting that something did happen?" she asked shakily. Her balled fists created nail marks on her palms.

"You were drunk that night and so was I," he sighed, looking at Bella with an expression that oozed pity. "I don't remember leaving-"

"I never said anything about leaving," she interjected. "Unless you remember something about leaving your own party. Was it to escort me to the bus stop?"

She saw his eyes flash with recognition before they were filled with animosity. She stepped back. He growled, "I have a _future_. I don't need your shit to ruin my parents' pride in me. I'm already dealing with-"

"What about my future, you son of a bitch?" she asked through gritted teeth. A cathartic cry erupted from her chest. She felt a force being unleashed. An unstoppable force of resentment. "You took it all away when you decided to break me apart. You don't have that sort of power over me. You _can't _and you never will."

"You truly are a little Miss. Perfect who has no idea what she's on about." She could see the struggle on Marcus' face as he attempted to regain control.

"Nowhere left to hide? No more excuses to use?" she said. He flinched at the state of madness that had spread across Bella's face- tears flowing down her cheeks. He'd pushed her to the cracks of her breaking point. "You don't deserve a future. Your parents would be ashamed. You think you deserve to make them proud? You don't. You deserve to rot in hell."

She'd been engulfed in an inexplicable anger, persuaded to finish what she'd never imagined to confront. Bella didn't know if he was capable of understanding her pain. She didn't even know if he knew what guilt meant. She wondered if he registered the trauma he'd caused or if he truly was a heartless monster with no regrets. Shaking away her doubts, she resumed her predacious stance. She wanted to live to see the last act... before the stage curtains fell in dark red velvet.

"I'm sorry-" he whispered. For a moment, she hated herself for believing his apology. It was too sudden; it didn't feel right.

_He doesn't mean it. He doesn't. He doesn't._

"You're only saying that because you want me to believe you. But all you care about is yourself," Bella snarled.

Marcus closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Look, I've never done anything like that before. I need to go to college, I need-"

"_You_ don't need anything. Just a slow, painful death," she bit back.

Although, the argument had started off with Bella on the defense, it had ultimately concluded with her on the offense. But as she stumbled away, running out of hell's cave, she didn't know if she believed in her own words. They'd been dipped in poisonous bravery. Blinded by her miasma of confusion, she wondered if she could finally accept herself.

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.

.

_A/N: I've heard/read several stories on victims confronting their attackers. Obviously, it's a dangerous thing to do but I think when someone's pushed to the line, they can keep on sinking or suddenly retaliate. And of course, we all know everyone reacts so __differently__._


	39. Chapter 39

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**39\. The Present**

Bella's eighteenth birthday was on the day before Thanksgiving so Renee decided to cook up a storm for just the two of them, hoping it'd be uplifting. Bella stayed in her room, replaying what her mother had said. She didn't want to feel so weak anymore, relying on the excuses she'd braided through her hair. The yearning for a boost of strength tiptoed around Bella. She hadn't realized just how clamant her longing was- to feel normal again- until it dawned on her that it would never be an easy task. She'd have to go through all the steps of recovery that she'd dodged earlier. The question wasn't if she wanted to do it; it was whether she was strong enough to embark on such a challenge.

As she crept downstairs, watching her mother wash the vegetables in the sink, she wondered what she would have done if she were a mother herself. There would be no doubt as to the immensity of guilt she'd feel if she had to watch her only daughter descend into a spiral of unspeakable distress. She'd wonder about how the demons had taken over her child before she had a chance to react. Bella was certain that she'd shift the blame onto her own shoulders. That was what mothers did- that was what _her _mother was doing.

Bella sat in the darkness of the staircase as she listened to Renee's soft singing being drowned out by the exhaust hood. She wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. The pain was staggering. As if she was being showered by an enfilade of meteors, creating dents across the surface of her skin. She wondered if she was made up of maria, terrae and craters like on the moon- a natural satellite that was still spinning on strongly.

Through the actions of another man, she knew she'd been exposed to the cosmic rays that would last for a lifetime. But it'd been her choices that haunted her relentlessly. They burned against her skin. Had she been just as cruel as him? Was that why her sky was pitch black, no matter how hard she searched for light? Bella played with her thumbs, wondering if she deserved all of this.

_"Nobody should be held accountable for that... especially not you. I was just-"_

Edward's words jumped out at her, causing her to wince. Having seen the evil in mankind, she realized she'd been ignorant to the good. Bella didn't know what was making Edward try so hard but at the same, she wondered why she felt the need to start trying as well. Maybe, they both craved normality in an abnormal world. Choices were made in life but they would never be absolute. The future shifted with brilliant thoughts and radical ideas and the smallest changes in emotions.

Slowly embracing the mood to which the day called for, she realized she should be happy that she'd lived to see her eighteenth birthday. She was eighteen years strong and eighteen years a daughter of her mother. She had so much to be thankful for, even if the veil of her depression prevented her from having a bird's-eye view of the reality she'd been painted in. Resting in her quiet musings, she wondered if the episodes of depression were under the command of eternal recurrences. Would it ever end? Or would it come and go, continuing her lifelong battle against it. She didn't know when it'd begun until she'd been fully immersed- floating out to sea, without a buoy in sight.

Bella knew she was scared of many things. She was scared of the dark thoughts that her brain conjured up, interlinking her nightmares with an affected reality. It was hard to admit and even harder to think about. Occasionally, she'd fooled herself into believing that nothing had happened. The summer had been a breeze. She'd never gotten closer to Edward Cullen... she'd never attended that party. She lied to herself, practising how to smile in the mirror as she wanted to put on a good show. A talented performer who could hide her onstage mistakes. She didn't need worriers in the crowd. In fact, she wondered why there were even people watching her. She knew she wasn't worth all the trouble.

The mask had worked- deceiving Renee for the briefest period until the darkness of her soul seeped through the clouds, contaminating the faux sunlight in her artificial world. She couldn't hide, but she could choose not to speak about the horrifying chills. So she pushed and she pushed, running away from the safety of the shore. She wasn't worth saving... how could she be? Resigned to her watery grave, she felt the weight of her actions pushing on her shoulders. Yet miraculously, she felt a tickle in her fingers and a tingle in her toes.

She felt _tired _of _being tired_.

She wanted to be ordinary-

Suddenly, a light knock on the front door pulled Bella out of her thoughts. She peeked at Renee who hadn't heard the sound over the noise of the exhaust hood. After hesitantly walking down the stairs in her baggy pajama bottoms, she paused in front of the door. She was opening one. She'd closed so many that her fingers were zapped with a new sensation as she turned the knob. She repeated to herself: _there was nothing to be afraid of_.

The dark mulberry swirls of the evening sky greeted her, instead of a face or a name. Bella frowned, thinking that she'd accidentally heard the knock. But her eyes lowered to see a cake box in front of her feet. Walking back inside with the item in her hands, she stared at it, puzzled. Gingerly, she lifted the lid and read the shaky writing on the icing.

_I baked you a real cake, birthday girl._

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	40. Chapter 40

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**40\. The Past  
**

The weight that had existed on her shoulders, many weeks ago, started to dissipate until it was replaced by a minty coolness that was ambiguous in all aspects. On one hand, she felt as if she'd accomplished something. She'd finished a marathon- heart pumping, muscles aching. But on the other hand, she felt the tresses of unease brush against her back. Her body was often stiff, rigidly rooted in intuitive daydreams, until she remembered how to breathe.

As each day went on, she was reminded by the comforting silence that nuzzled her. She was able to meditate into the safety of her soul with the repetition of empowering chants. Bella attempted to act _normal_ as she pushed away the vines that beckoned her to surrender. She couldn't give up, just yet. She'd only just found her footing.

As the last month of the summer holidays approached in its cautious crawl, Bella wondered what the rest of the world was up to whilst she'd hibernated in the fumes of her gloom. Bella's thoughts wandered over to Edward as she recalled the texts she had read from him earlier. She hadn't thought about replying at all, choosing to succumb to the unwillingness of her fingers to type.

_So it looks like you need space... I'll give you space then._

_I don't get it. Is this your way of breaking up with me?_

_It seems like you're not even trying, anymore. What are you hiding, Bella?  
_

Eventually, she was able to push out a response. It was a brief one- telling him that she wasn't able to commit to their relationship anymore. He had knocked on her door a few times. But she ignored him. Deep down inside, Bella wondered if Edward would have understood if she chose to tell him. Would he take the side of his friend? Or would he believe in her? She shook her head in disgust as she realized she was doubting the goodness in a boy who hadn't done anything wrong. Although she felt strengthened, a consequential fear clinched onto her as well. Once a confession was made, it'd linger in the open air forever.

She wouldn't be able to hide away from the constant pity or the eggshells that people would walk on. She wondered if she'd be blamed for being the victim- a flaw she'd seen in her society, far too often. Had she dressed in a provocative way? Had she led him on? But she hadn't done any of that. Nobody deserved to experience what she'd traipsed through. Yet there were so many people out there who had... and they could muster the strength to continue on with their journey.

She didn't want to be helplessly entombed in the mouth of a Venus flytrap, suffocated by the conviction of her demise. Bella could make a choice to let out her voice. She could tell her mother... her best friend. Bella clawed at her face, confused as to why it was so hard to admit to Renee.

Until she finally realized.

Her mother's judgement had always been important. It'd always mattered to her.

Perhaps, it was also the perpetual dirtiness she felt, loathing the occurrences of fate. She couldn't fight away the fiendish spirits to tell the tale in the voice of a conqueror. The intricate layers of her psyche refused to vanquish the horrors of that night, spurning all attempts to recover and move on. It was as if parts of her wanted to hold onto the memories that had scarred her, dangling her over a chasm of insanity. She felt emotions rise and fall in arbitrary waves, ruling out presumptions and predictable outcomes. She couldn't understand herself- the way her body contradicted her mind. She didn't know if such oddities could be cured or if there was more to endure for her to see the faintest glow of hope.

Bella heard a chime from her cell phone. She wondered if it was Edward. She looked at the screen. And it was.

_Why didn't you tell me?_

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_A/N: Pretty sure by now, everyone realizes the mirroring of past and present chapters.  
_


	41. Chapter 41

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**41\. The Present  
**

Renee noticed a subtle difference in her daughter. There was still a weariness to Bella's movements but there had been improvements which sparked hope. She patiently talked to her daughter- never pushing, but just giving. She offered her patience and understanding, establishing an eternal support for her child. The weather also threatened to transition from the moderate warmth of spring to a cool winter that would promise thunderstorms.

While the season adjusted itself under the dictatorship of time, the Swan household also went through some changes. The biggest was when Bella brought up therapy with Tamara to which Renee had nodded quickly, making the call immediately. They would try having sessions again, imitating the baby steps Bella had once taken.

"Mama," came the sound of excitement from many years ago. She'd only managed to leave three more footprints before stumbling into her mother's arms.

"Renee?"

Renee's eyes refocused to see Tamara and Bella waiting for a response. She cleared her throat before answering, "I'm really proud of her for choosing to do this. I couldn't be happier to see my baby girl trying her best."

The psychologist turned to Bella. "Do you have anything else to add?"

"Thanks, Ma," Bella said quietly.

After their session ended, Renee drove them home. Bella watched the racing raindrops on her window, wriggling around to beat each other on their downward trail. The repetitive thumping sounds of the windscreen wiper lulled Bella into a slumberous daze. It only felt like seconds later when a gentle hand touched her shoulder. She'd fallen asleep. Looking out of the car window, Bella realized they'd arrived home. The rain had gotten heavier due to the invigoration of the wind, coming down in sheets, as the outside world became the blur of colors on a smudged painting.

After walking inside, Bella found herself staring at the empty, white box sticking out of the bin.

"It was nice of Edward to bake you that cake," Renee said with a smile.

Bella had placed it on the dinner table, that night. The shock didn't seem to evaporate until Renee reminded her that Edward had always been an exception to Bella's blasé attitude, especially with his keen attempts to outdo himself.

"He knew red velvet was my favorite," Bella murmured. "So he baked me my second-favorite, knowing you would have already made the favorite."

Renee looked at her daughter, noticing just how small she was. The brokenness crushed her heart but at the same time, the blossoming strength that was slowly maturing in Bella's eyes made Renee feel a raw happiness that had been thawed out of its frosty hiding.

She cleared her throat before softly saying, "Honey, if you feel more comfortable talking to him about what ever is the matter, it's okay-"

Bella didn't know what emotion overcame her for her to turn around and swing her arms around her mother's neck. It could have been the isochronous pulse of thankfulness and guilt. Or the elaborate mixture of sadness, hope and longing. Bella felt the onslaught of her intertwined emotions, striding with purpose. They rallied against her past, begging for her to open up and let the pain be exonerated. They cried for liberation, demanding emancipation from the shackles of her torment. She would no longer be a slave to the darkness of a past she couldn't control. The choices that she made... they felt right in the moment but she couldn't keep plunging herself into a whirlpool of blame for she was no expert in divination. The future would come as it would; she just had to accept it.

But who would she be after all of this? Who was she, right now? Was she the same Bella before summer or the Bella who would never regain her confidence, after being flung into the flames. Yet she was also much stronger than all of that, for she'd battled the monsters of her physical and emotional turmoil. But how could she be illustrated as a hero when it was her strength- her wrath- that had led to a sinner's destruction. She couldn't be immune to a guilty conscience.

Every time she felt her feet move one step forward, she always anticipated the two-steps-backward part. She tried to predict her own disappointment before failure could even prepare a strategy. The path ahead of her had never been journeyed. It would be arduous, most likely guaranteeing a bankruptcy of her strength if she wasn't careful. But what was she afraid of? Perhaps, it was fear itself. The fear of fear emitted the same ear-splitting roar as the silence of silence. Both so poisonous and deceitful.

However, just as Bella's thoughts reached a cacophonous boom, the angelic resonance of her mother's voice reminded her of who she was. She wasn't a silent spectator or an anonymous skeleton in the closet.

She was an identity. She was a voice.

_"You are my daughter. How can you ever be a burden?"_

_ "I will always love you, honey..." _

_"Please. Trust me. You used to trust me."_

Her shoulders relaxed. Her breathing slowed. Her mind reached a place of zen. She inhaled the rosy scent of trust and listened to the softness of her bravery beating through her heart. Slowly, words were released to shape a secret that no longer hid. In the darkness of her sorrows, she finally found light in the arms of unconditional love.

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	42. Chapter 42

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**42\. The Past**

The bombardment of texts surprised her, making her sit up. She was curious as to what the problem was. The perplexity that she felt over his ambiguous texts did not liquidate the uneasiness that crept into her stomach. Something felt _wrong_. As if she'd underestimated the forces of nature. As if she'd resorted to her own pride to make rash decisions. Bella stared at the messages that had flowed in.

_Something's happened._

_We need to talk._

_I'm outside your house, Bella._

She stiffened at the last one, caught between whether she should answer the door or not. Her mother wasn't at home, so it was just her. Alone. Maybe, she could pretend that she wasn't here either. It wouldn't be too hard to pull off, seeing how Renee's car wasn't in the driveway. The privacy of her thoughts was suddenly disturbed by a knocking on the front door.

Another text came.

_Please answer the door._

She wondered if this was him respecting the space that she needed by communicating through short sentences, instead of displaying his vocal disappointment in the form of a phone call. But then she remembered; she was the one who stopped answering his calls. For quite a while, now. There was no good reason behind it.

The knocking on the door grew louder. She sighed.

It was the unyielding anxiety over the mystery of his first text that made her open the door. She expected a boy who didn't look quite as upset as the one that stood before her. She felt her heart constrict as she analyzed the dark circles under his eyes, hoping that she wasn't the cause behind those marks. Bella didn't notice his eyes softening as he looked at her unkempt appearance. The two formed a distinct picture of slovenliness that would've depicted the traditional story of a break-up if it weren't for the suffocating secret in Bella's throat.

Edward's eyes reverted to their glint of mistrust. "So that's why you wanted all that space."

She felt her heart race, even though she was clueless as to what he was referencing. "I don't know what you're-"

"I fell in love with you. Did you know that?" he hissed. "I didn't know what I did wrong for you to suddenly ignore me, acting as if you _hated _me."

Her eyes widened at his declaration. But then, she noticed the burning anger in his eyes that refused to shy away. Immediately growing uncomfortable, Bella tried to stand up for herself. She did it once; she could do it again.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," she said firmly.

The silence seemed to extend for miles, constructing a great wall between them. Until it was demolished by a few words... words that almost made Bella fall down.

"Marcus hanged himself."

Her hand flew up to her mouth, muffling the shock that threatened to spill out. In that instant, she became the only soul to know the truth. Bella flinched at the rancid taste of guilt on her tongue. She wondered if she could ever bring herself to unlock the secrets from her chest. Was she the perpetrator in this tragedy? Or had evil been defeated by evil, making a right with two wrongs.

"He stated that he couldn't deal with '_the repercussions_,'" Edward stated monotonously. "The police were there, all day, yesterday. They think it's got to do with pressure at home and expectations."

No matter how hard Bella tried to move her feet, they wouldn't budge. She felt her body sink into the swamp that had been there since day one. She was never meant to find the shortcut. It'd tricked her. Bella tried to scream for help. But her lips had been taped together, sealed with an unspoken confusion and a guilt that would always teeter on the edge of uncertainty. She thought she'd won. But she hadn't. The war was still raging.

_Had it been my fault?_

"But what I want to know is why," Edward said darkly, interrupting Bella from her ongoing nightmare. "Why did you play us like that?"

Bella felt her mouth open in shock, unwilling to believe his insinuation.

"There are these... rumours. Lauren saw you visit his house. Someone also saw you two leaving his party together. He didn't come back until morning," Edward said, gritting his teeth. "_Why_?"

_"Why?" _It was a question that she'd asked herself frequently, ever since that night. It was a question that she'd asked Marcus. And now, it was being thrown into her face again, ridiculing her choices and the subsequent tragedy that had materialized. It seemed as if it was a question that could never be answered by anyone, in this world. At least, not without a set of complex excuses and shaky pauses.

Bella felt the pain double as she pictured _him _hanging from the ceiling. She berated herself, wondering if the weak one had been _him_, all along.

"Edward, I never-"

"It all makes sense now. You guys standing there and smiling while we were at the diner. You wanting space, refusing to talk to me and then dumping me," Edward whispered. He knew he wasn't thinking straight. But he didn't care; he almost didn't want to care. "We were never on the same page, were we? I always cared about you more than you ever did for me. From summer camp... till now."

"Listen to me-"

"Did he touch you? You guys _must_ have..."

The sharp implication struck Bella across the face. She shut her eyes and felt the tears run down their course. Her agony reached another culmination. It screamed into her ears, drawing blood, as it cursed her to a future that would only know vapidness.

Her sorrow sent all the wrong messages to a boy who was relentless in defending his own feelings. He looked away from her, but not before angrily hissing, "Your act of being depressed... it's making other people feel tired too."

She couldn't even answer Edward as he carried on mumbling false confirmations to himself. It was because he _did _touch her. Marcus had broken off all her petals, exposing her to a newfound taste of cruelty- one that made sure she wouldn't be mistaken with just how real it felt.

"It's over, Bella." And for the first time, it was Edward who stepped away- no longer chasing, no longer hoping. She heard him walk away until the echoes of her isolation pulled her into the dark lair of guilt.

She cried for the misunderstanding that would always be embedded in her reality. She cried for the failure of her voice. She cried because she had no idea what she could do anymore. She cried because she'd finally sunken into the anonymity that was herself.

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	43. Chapter 43

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**43\. The Present**

Renee slowly opened her eyes.

The room had descended into a cerulean gray, oozing with the evening light. Her eyes started to adjust before she realized Bella was still fast asleep, facing her with complete relaxation. She kissed Bella's forehead whilst cradling her head as she felt the overpowering urge to cry again. The source of her pain was unidentifiable yet distinguishable; she knew where it was coming from, but its obscured location in her fractured reality made it impossible to find.

Listlessly, she walked out of her daughter's bedroom where they'd cried themselves to sleep, hugging so tightly until the tranquility of unconsciousness had forced them to loosen their hold. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Only this time, there was something different. This time, she _knew_. Her mind wasn't infused with the benighted smoke of oblivion as she pretended to bask in the optimism of a blind mother. She was no longer conducting guesswork whilst holding a magnifying glass to all of the clues. Renee could no longer hide behind the tentative ebb and flow of hope. She could no longer wish for something different than what she'd just learned two hours ago.

_"I was raped."_

It was the bland words of acknowledgement.

It was the shriek of atrocity in its final stages of acceptance.

And there was nothing she could do to reverse the trauma that had been inflicted on her child. There was nothing in her power- as a mother, as a friend- to undo the pain that had burned through the woodlands of Bella's mind. What was most heartbreaking was the guilt of her child. It spilled out relentlessly like the rapid blood loss of a wounded soldier who had given up all hope. There was no hesitation in Bella's voice. Not a tremor.

_"I caused his suicide."_

She was the quintessence of an emotional blockage, a (confused) burden that she named herself to be and an oscillation which sprouted from mistakes that weren't her own, following her injustice. Renee had wept, telling her child that it was never her fault. How could it be? The subsequent depression that Bella had disappeared in emphasized the undeserving blame she'd tortured herself with. She often wondered: had her destroyer perished, merely because of his unadulterated guilt or for his own selfish objective?

Perhaps, he wanted to escape the repercussions that would have followed his name. A tarnished identity. Fallen expectations. He'd been a _monster_, after all. But could that ever excuse her course of actions?

Renee had cried as Bella stoically muttered the answer to her own question, knowing that it would take time for the blame to dissipate. _"Even though we're choiceless at times, the future is so erratic that the smallest choices can trigger collisions and revivals."_

As Renee continued to stare at her reflection, she watched a tear maneuver down her chin where it hung in its desperate plea to not be splattered into nothingness. She wondered if that was what Bella had felt for nearly six months- pure nothingness, having been numbed by the pain of her attack and then the pain of her assailant's death.

But the past couldn't be erased. Certain memories would be engraved in Bella's mind, forever.

Renee didn't know where to begin. She didn't know how to start being helpful. In her almost fruitless pursuit for the truth behind her daughter's depression, she realized that Bella had nurtured her own wounds in silence, stitching them up herself. For Renee, she knew she wasn't as strong as her baby. Bella had received all the independence and strength a young child should have, flourishing in a blend of confidence and shyness. She was given what her mother never had- Support. Renee only wished to see Bella grow. The realization that villainous forces had pulled down her daughter made Renee's emotions become unbearable.

She felt the pain of Michelangelo's _Pietà_, donning a drapery of lament that was similar to Mary's, as she wept over her child.

Yet it was under this new light that Renee realized she had to take a few steps back as a mother. It was her daughter's life... and it would go at her tempo. Bella had displayed enough strength to save them both and she would continue to do so, proving that power rested in her own hands, in her own heart. Renee would only be able to watch with a proud smile, waiting on the sidelines. She knew her daughter would always come back, running into her arms just like the countless times before- when she was a baby, a child, a teenager and now, an adult. She realized she had to accept the tragedy and the process of recovery that would follow, just as Bella did. As Renee breathed deeply, waiting for the ecdysis that would illuminate Bella's inner strength, she realized that her daughter wasn't a victim. She was much more than that.

She was a _survivor_.

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	44. Chapter 44

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**44\. The Past**

Bella fell, like a cartridge dropping onto the floor after its bullet was projected into the air. There was not a sound made as she came into contact with the ground. All she remembered was that she fell, tragically. She entered a body of water that would symbolize her imminent doom. The well of depression took her prisoner.

Questions circled her, spinning like the cylinder of a revolver. She wondered about the chances of her having caused his suicide. She played a deadly game of Russian roulette with herself, analyzing its unpredictable chances. She permitted the expected guilt to fester in her mind, waiting for it to transform into its most revolting form. The peremptory blame in her soul plummeted her back into a darkness she never wanted to revisit.

The confusion escalated, immobilizing her with its psychedelic hypnosis. She hadn't meant for him to kill himself. She wasn't the culprit... he'd been the wrongdoer. But her feeble attempt at convincing herself would never work. She knew she was only lying to her conscience. No matter how much she pushed her mind towards the light, Bella couldn't find it in her voice to admit to the events of that night. She couldn't speak up about what he'd done. She was trapped within the electrical fences of silence.

_The caged bird sings  
with a fearful trill... _

She wondered if Marcus had been telling the truth when he said he'd never done anything like that before. Was that why he'd hanged himself out of guilt? But she couldn't be sure that he felt guilty. The limited evidence of his repentance had been overlooked by Bella. For all she knew, he was saving his own skin while she was rotting in hers, unable to come to an intersection of acceptance and purgation. She was paralyzed with guilt- the reiteration of the _dirtiness _that she felt crawling up her skin. She hadn't deserved her treatment from him; but had he deserved hers? Had the victim become the offender?

The scarred face of her predicament revealed itself under the single light bulb that swung from her underground hell. She'd been deceived by the inner-peace she thought she'd found. Her moral culpability snarled at her, with beastly eyes and horns that curved towards the ceiling. Cowering in fear, she wondered if this was what her life had come to. Happiness that had been cultivated for more than a decade morphed into an echoing destruction.

_... For the caged bird  
sings of freedom._

Days went by. She screamed and she screamed, until she lost her voice and lost her name. She forgot the face she saw in the mirror; she forgot the dream and the goals of a seventeen year old. She tried to wear her mask again but this time, it wouldn't fit. She tried to steal another one but they were out of full face masks so she settled on a half mask. But even that one refused to protect the contours of her identity and the emotions that she bottled inside. One by one, they slipped out carefully- first, it was the sadness, then the guilt and then the scorching acknowledgement of her perpetual pain.

_But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams  
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream..._

She took advantage of her mother's busy summer schedule. She encouraged her to take photos of _true _happiness while she wasted away from cancerous thoughts, under her blankets and away from the life of the outside. She wondered if everything had been predestined to come to a climax at this point. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to know the absolute truth to that question.

Her mind drifted to Marcus and his parents. Did they know the truth or were they sick with grief from the death of their child? He hadn't died as an innocent; but even villains didn't deserve to hang from ceilings with broken necks. At least not caused by a scrawny girl who couldn't fight her own demons. The horrors in her head had multiplied, spawning into lethal reincarnations and deadly reminders. She thought about her mother and the sadness that would have marred her face if it'd been _her_ body, strung up on rope and turning slowly on its axis of death. Bella knew Renee would love her irrevocably. But she didn't know if she deserved that kind of love anymore. Because in that exact moment, she knew she'd lost everything she'd gained. She felt the push of a 'mute' button; she felt the power switch turn off.

_... His wings are clipped and his feet are tied  
so he opens his throat to sing._

But nothing came out.

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_A/N: Credit- **I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings** by **Maya Angelou**_


	45. Chapter 45

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**45\. The Present**

Senior year started to pick up its pace after New Year. It dawned on Bella that it'd be her last few months of high school before she'd be allowed to throw her graduate cap into the air with a cry of triumph. Edward always kept her company, but he also started to learn when she needed space. On the days that he was absent, she often caught herself staring at his empty seat.

Her mind wandered to the very beginning of their relationship. She didn't know he was kindness and humility combined in the form of an avid baker. She also didn't know that he could be just as ruthless as he was enthusiastic. The more she contemplated about how they'd landed themselves in a pile of rubble, she realized more about herself. She was a fugitive... a magician who couldn't understand how her own magic worked. She needed time and it came at the sacrifice of their relationship.

As she wondered about what had made them initially like each other, she remembered it was their mutual love for simplicity. They were both down-to-earth and tolerant of many things. But it had been honesty that caused a great deal of botheration. They were two singular fractions that weren't ready to partake in a problem of addition. They were young and unprepared. Whilst Bella had pushed him away, Edward had bathed in the hoodwinked misfortune of rumors.

She realized that they hadn't been ready to be with each other. Edward was right about not being on the same page. Bella hadn't known what love was when Edward was already certain of the feeling. He hadn't been ready to tell her his jealousy of another man, just like how she couldn't confide her darkest secret to him. She wondered if they would have been a magnificent display of two asteroids crashing in space if they'd stayed together. But they had crashed even when they didn't stay together. Almost a sign of inevitability.

One day, as Edward ate lunch with her, he asked her a question she never thought she'd answer.

"Do you think there could ever be an _us_, in the future?" he murmured.

She chewed slowly, making sure that she was occupied with enough time to think before she answered his loaded question. He didn't know the _truth_. He'd wanted to believe what his anger was telling him. So he lived in a world that had accepted the lie so easily, without any questions or certitude over the values that shaped who she was.

"I don't know," she muttered. "I don't think-"

"My feelings"- he paused, taking in a deep breath- "haven't changed. I wish I'd been gentler with you. You seem to be doing much better, though. And it makes me happy to see that."

She suddenly spoke up, voicing her curiosity. "You're so sure of me. I don't get it. How?"

He smiled at her, admiring the way her eyebrows pulled together and her nose scrunched up in scrutiny. "Nan always said that when you know, you know. Even if the person doesn't know it yet."

She smirked, allowing a disbelieving smile to peek between her lips. Even when they were together, he'd been so certain about what he believed. Yet he _hadn't_ been certain about her, back then. If he knew her so well, he wouldn't have walked away. He wouldn't have been jealous; he wouldn't have been gullible.

Edward noticed Bella's eyes filling with a sadness that he'd seen far too often. He was about to touch her face before he remembered his limitations. He couldn't do that now. He was her _ex_. He was that awkward friend who waited for her attention.

"Please don't cry, Bella," he said, hearing his voice break off at the end. "I'll give you time if that's what you need."

"You didn't give me enough," she whispered.

He closed his eyes.

"You don't know how sorry I am," he said, feeling his chest crack open with devastation. None of this could rewind time and make up for the harshness he'd exhibited. But he was trying now. And he would continue to try.

An understanding washed over Edward as he registered he was where he'd begun. He was Mr. Hopeful, chasing after the skeptic who starred in his summer camp dreams. He'd promised her that he would change her views on love. But he'd failed. He had given up, too soon, running away like a coward when his hopes had dwindled into exhaustion. He never got to change her mind. But then he thought to himself. Could he have ever changed the mind of Bella Swan? A woman so mysterious in sadness and in strength.

"I never got to thank you," she said quietly. "For being a friend."

He opened his eyes.

Knowing that they'd be okay.

.

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	46. Chapter 46

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**46\. The Past**

Floating in a state of catatonia, Bella wasn't sure how she managed to get out of bed and accompany her mother to the city fair. The showgrounds were filled with rides, entertainment and marvelous exhibitions of art. Music hummed from the guitars and the drums, played by the citizens of Knox and beyond.

Renee had a few photographs displayed. It would be a good chance for some exposure. Bella wandered around, with a cloud of blue cotton candy trying to reassure her that everything was still... _normal_. The cool breeze of the summer twilight brought shivers down her back. She no longer appreciated the open space. She felt watched. She felt cold.

As she looked at the dizzying lights that spun in accordance with the motion of the thrill rides, she realized that her summer break had commenced with a blast, energetically bouncing around the play-field of a pinball machine. It was good at first. However, all too soon, she was hit and thrown around by emotions from every direction. She wondered when the flipper bats would stop working whilst the lights dimmed and the game ended, as she simply vanished into the dark vortex of defeat.

But the last month of summer simply stared at her, indifferent to her deterioration.

She carried on walking, becoming unsteady as she continued to crane her head at the sky. She watched the lights guide her to a place that was ironically inundated with darkness. Thoughts gripped onto the hooks of her mind, unable to submit to the desired locomotion, as her mind sadistically replayed the guilt that racked her body. She thought about a boy who wouldn't be starting school. She thought about the boy who did so much wrong. The curlicues of her diseased mind restrained her to a bed of torture.

_A woman in the shape of a monster  
a monster in the shape of a woman  
the skies are full of them..._

She was numbed by the blame. She was numbed by the confusion. But most of all, and perhaps most selfishly, she was numbed by the state of her own despair. She felt her skin breaking apart, like the reverse process of a mosaic coming to life. She felt the tiny flecks of ivory and blush washing away into despondency. She didn't know who she felt sorrier for- the victim who found a justified rage and strength or the culprit who found a justified weakness and demise. He'd died with secrets in his mouth and a tale that Bella would have wanted to hear, albeit pained to endure. She never understood why any of it happened. Perhaps, it all came down to the desire for brutal power or the incessant need for _control_ in his life.

She wondered if he'd been forced to follow decisions for his whole life. Was that why he decided to retaliate by showing cruelty to an innocent? Had he regretted it? She wanted to know why he'd done it- why he'd done both things. Ending her with pain and ending himself with death. However, it was the contagious inquisition in Bella's head that made her completely oblivious to who she'd bumped shoulders with.

"_Bella_," came the indubitable sneer from Lauren.

She spotted Rosalie standing nearby and a few other people who she hadn't spent much time with. But then she saw Edward. There was a steely glint in his eyes that made her contemplate about the possible causes for his polluted faith in her. It'd felt so rapid... everything that had happened- from good to bad to very bad. Was it because of how she'd neglected him? Was it the attention he'd once told her he never sought in excess? Or were they a pair of confused novices who didn't know how to adjust in synchronization.

"What sort of _repercussions_ were you going to give him, huh?" Lauren taunted. "Do you like to two-time? Do you only care about attention, nowadays? Well I guess you did such a brilliant job that his parents have also left town."

A few people snickered, behind Lauren. Bella ignored their unnecessary input. She tried to glare back at Lauren but she felt like a lamb staring into the eyes of a lion. There was nowhere to hide and no more tricks to play in order to stall the predator's attack.

"You were always jealous of me, weren't you?" Lauren hissed. "You wanted everything that I had. My popularity, my friends... my boyfriend.

"He mumbled your name once... very briefly," she continued, ranting with irritation. "He seemed so angry and upset. But the fact that he said your name _clearly _meant that something was going on behind my back."

Lauren couldn't be more wrong with her uncorroborated assumptions. But things _had _happened behind everyone's back. People were simply too quick to judge. And sometimes, explanations looked worse- coming off as excuses.

"I saw you leaving his place," Lauren muttered, stepping closer. "I know what I saw. And I hope you're happy, Bella Swan, for _everything _that you ruined. For me."

The childishness that had been displayed would have been amusing if it weren't for the seriousness of the situation. The sharp conclusions that people were capable of leaping to and the justifications that they gave themselves to believe in their own hypotheses made Bella descend into an unimproved mind of perturbation. Guilt whispered terrifying things in her ears as she lost sight of rationality through her thoughts. She vaguely remembered bodies brushing by her as they walked away, keen to enjoy the rest of the night as she was left to stare at the blood that covered her- soul and body.

_Out, damned spot! out, I say!_

But a pair of feet stopped in front of her, choosing to linger behind the departing group. She knew who it was without even looking up. She heard him take in a deep breath. What felt like hours faded away after a few seconds as she heard him sigh before he slowly trudged away. She noticed that his shoulders were hunched, uncharacteristic of him, but she wasn't sure if that was imagined for her own comfort.

As she looked up at the disappearing twilight that had enveloped the city fair, she realized. Something frightening, something dismal.

She'd never made it back home as the same person.

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_A/N: Credit- **Planetarium** by **Adrienne Rich** and **Macbeth** by **William Shakespeare** (line from Lady Macbeth, Act V, scene I)_


	47. Chapter 47

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**47\. The Present**

Bella had seen her fair share of teen movies. The girls' bathroom seemed to be a slaughterhouse when it came to stealthy eavesdropping and spiteful confrontations. She'd never had any problems with the restrooms until the little performance Lauren had pulled off, some time ago. Although she wasn't acquiver with fright to go about her normal business in there, she knew that Lauren's spontaneous conversations weren't unprecedented, but rather predictable. Lauren had never gotten over the internal humiliation that singed her heart, hurt over the inadequacy she felt about herself.

She'd placed the blame on Bella who was an easy target. An easy scapegoat. Bella was the friend who didn't matter in the long run and the girl who wouldn't benefit Lauren's reputation. Bella had never felt the fullness of belonging in her school. She'd drifted until suddenly, she landed in a group that had seemed decent but proved to be tricky to sneak out of. She felt like a farmhouse animal, awaiting execution. A neat incision across the width of her throat. It'd left her voiceless.

It never felt nice to be manhandled by the beliefs of another person. She'd learned a lot about what it meant to have a voice, an opinion and a chance to express her thoughts even on the hardest matters to discuss. Her weekly sessions with Tamara were helpful as the road to acceptance was highlighted through the little steps that were taken, instead of the inconsistent sprints that had progress on good days but retrogression on the bad ones.

Nevertheless, one of those bad days did come on its natural course. But it didn't occur in the school bathroom that Bella had anticipated, wondering if a boxing rematch was about to go down. Instead, it was on the grass, outside the cafeteria, where she sat with Edward. He rolled his eyes when he saw Lauren and Rosalie walking towards them. It hadn't been a playful gesture. He looked irritated. Defensive.

But it wasn't them who made the first move.

It was _Bella_.

Perhaps, she just had enough. Perhaps, it was something else, entirely. She stood up shakily.

"You need to get over yourself. And you need to get over the fact that you'll never push me down," she stated. "You can choose to get over Marcus, if you want, but don't tie me to it. Don't you _dare_. Your preconceptions could not be more incorrect."

Lauren's eyes widened in shock. Rosalie tried to help her by fumbling for the right words. But Lauren raised her hand, quieting her friend.

_When I remember all  
The friends, so link'd together..._

She regathered herself and narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me what to-"

"You need to get over the attention that you always crave," Bella interjected sharply. Her eyes burnt with blunt criticism. "He was never who you thought he was. He made all the wrong choices... he chose to be evil because he didn't know the answers anymore. And I don't have them. Neither do you. Nobody does. I don't think you'll ever know what I'm talking about because _you_ don't deserve to hear my personal story. But you know what? We eventually figure out a way to move on."

Lauren arched her eyebrow as she remained silent. Bella had finally gotten her to think about what she wanted to say next.

"You used to be a good friend," Lauren goaded.

Before Bella could answer, Edward replied for her. "She still is."

_I've seen around me fall  
Like leaves in wintry weather..._

"Goodbye Lauren," Bella said quietly before looking at the other girl, "and Rosalie."

As she sat back down on the grass, she watched them strut away with the purpose of their confrontation remaining inconsequential. Although she'd put on a temporary display of bravery, she knew there was still a sadness that waited at the bottom of her chest, triggering the involuntary rush of tears. She felt gentle arms around her shoulders, making her instinctively freeze before she heard the voice that had kept her company for the whole school year. She was able to emerge out of the water and crawl back to the safety of the shore.

"There's more to the story, isn't there?" he whispered.

She didn't answer but her tears were the response that he needed. Carefully, he pressed a kiss to her temple as he offered her the warmth he'd once lent before.

"I'll give you time... all the time that you need," he said sadly. His voice- soft and patient. "I'm sorry, Bella. This time, I will. I promise."

_I feel like one  
Who treads alone..._

As she sobbed, she realized how far she'd traveled by herself, leaving everyone behind. She'd matured _mentally_ in such a short period of time. She'd been so scared to leave her mother's nest, where compassion existed in its purest beauty, that she hadn't even tested the shallowest of waters in other regions, with a dip of her toes. The lifelong certainty she'd always feel for her mother had unintentionally eliminated her growth in other areas of possible love, unless she viewed it from a helmet of skepticism.

But now, she was able to advance another step on her road to recovery. She realized that she was being embraced by the love of friendship. And even though it wasn't perfect, it'd helped her. The auriferous chords of her voice fluttered, flying to its destined place of belonging.

She finally knew...

"I want to tell you something," she said very quietly.

That the time was _now_.

.

.

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_A/N: Credit- **Oft, in the Stilly Night** by **Thomas Moore**_


	48. Chapter 48

**THE ANONYMITY OF BEING**

**48\. The Past**

It hardly rained during the summer... yet it did. The howl of the wind and the sound of the slapping rain kept Bella awake as her windows rattled under the spell of the downfall. The heat of the day had to be cooled down significantly with the renewal of rain which washed away the efforts of the sun in an endless weep that bore similarities to the sadness in Bella.

She wondered if her life would ever achieve an absence of fluctuations, where she wouldn't feel scared and then brave... reprehensible, then guilty. She sought the illusion of continuity in the midst of flawless despair. Bella yearned to be the child that her mother could love- a child who wouldn't disappoint, a child who wasn't an indirect killer.

_... And the small houses are memories,  
once live images, vacant  
thoughts here, sinking and vanishing._

The ululation of her depression echoed for days, until they linked up to form a week. And then another. Followed by more. In the mental time-lapse that had been generated, she could see Renee's smile distorting into a grimace of devastation. Bella wanted to go back, to find normalcy. She exiled her happiness to a faraway land that comprised of rivers with alligators and forests that enveloped the deadly marauders of her distress. The poisonous gas lurked into the confinements of her tragedy, envenoming her until she was Sleeping Beauty floating in hebetude.

Words took their leave, granting the girl a smooth but horrifying transition into the sleep of depression as they watched her mother cry on the other side of the door. Renee stopped taking on new projects, telling her clients that she needed some time away from work. The crystal ice that she'd stood on for so long shattered into pieces that could only dust her in silvery shards of pain, as she fell into the water that swallowed her whole.

_Rough sea now on the shore thundering brokenly  
draws back stones with a roar out into quiet and  
far depths, darkly to lie there..._

While Bella's mind chanted about how much of a burden she was, Renee's thoughts screamed with the longing to fix things. She couldn't define _normal_ when it came to her and her daughter. But she could find a synonymous substitute. It was _simplicity_. For her, that was the normality that she'd lived in with the beautiful girl she'd raised. When things weren't simple, it was most likely complexity raining on her happiness. The death of her husband. The sadness in Bella.

But _simple_ was a road she'd taken far too often. It'd been destroyed by the collision of her daughter's relationship.

"We broke up," Bella had whispered, appearing unfazed.

It'd been destroyed by events that would remain clueless to Renee- despite her attempts to guess the code- until the right time would come for Bella to open the safe. For Bella to scream and to tell the anguish of her double-sided pain.

"It's nothing, Ma," Bella had shouted. The odiousness would remain trapped in Bella's chest for as long as she could hold on. _I'm not worth saving... I'm not_.

The stubborn remnants of the past had transformed into the present where the unavoidable workings of life had continued to declare Armageddon in Bella's conscience. It wasn't mistrust that had taken over Bella's mind, but more of the _fear _to trust. To trust the goodness that she'd known once. She grew fearful of her choices or lack thereof. She grew fearful of her past, present and future.

_... Each wave angrily dying,  
all shapes endlessly altering..._

But while the Swans mourned for the revival of familial happiness, Edward Cullen was awakened from the stupor of his previous haste. He missed the girl who he didn't have to pretend around. He missed the girl who he'd pushed away, knowing that she'd needed time. Their passion had been genuine once- he was sure of it. He regretted the tactlessness he'd displayed, even when he was aware of his insecurity being blown out of proportion, accentuating his dramatic disposition. He'd wanted to see a reaction that would prove his vulnerability wrong. Yet when she cried and couldn't deny his ruthless questions, he felt more and more confused.

As summer skidded away with only its tail in sight, Edward seized whatever opportunities he could find. They were slim. In fact, they were non-existent. She never replied to him as she disintegrated into a frightened anonymity behind closed doors. As Bella searched for the answers in her head, Edward grew desperate to find his own. He had to keep trying. So he visited and knocked on the same door every day. He was accosted with the angry scowl of her mother and the scent of melancholy from half-opened windows.

_... One stone there, nor a glance of  
sun's light stir its identity._

While Bella might have forgotten who she was, he knew there would always be a Bella in her that he'd love... even if she didn't know it yet. Hope bubbled in his veins as he waited on the other side.

Renee heard a knock on the door. And then another one, crying with muffled desperation. She wondered if this day would prove to be the start of something new.

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_A/N: The past is now complete, linking to the first three sentences of Chapter 3. (Wow, remember that? That felt like a while ago!) All the spaces for the normal chronology have been filled and we've only got a little bit more to go. _

_Credit- **Depths** by **Richard Moore**_


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